Arrangements
by TessaSpencer
Summary: Continuation of Crossing Paths (part of trilogy)


"Hey, Angela, let's hit it, let's move it, let's do it," Tony called up the stairs. He had been waiting a half hour since the last time she had called down to announce her 'delay', claiming that an otherwise mal-fitting dress wouldn't be appropriate for his friend's wedding.  
  
Tony had sighed, but agreed, hoping she might realize it didn't really matter what she wore—all eyes would probably be on the couple walking down the aisle, and not on them.  
  
"I'm coming," she called down the steps, but this time she materialized in a pink silk dress with her hair in a partial up-do.  
  
"Wow." His jaw dropped, and Angela smiled at the cartoon-like look on his face.  
  
"That means you like it?"  
  
"Wow," Tony managed again, coherent thought more or less finished for him.  
  
Angela grinned. She loved getting that awestruck look from him that he gave her every time she wore something a little fancier or a bit more special than usual. Not even just more than usual, she thought, but anything but her work suits or her jeans and sweaters that she had been sporting more and more frequently since they'd met.  
  
"I just have to grab the gift and then we're good to go," Angela said, looking around for it. "Where is the gift?"  
  
"Oh, I uh, I put it in the van already," Tony said heading for the door, his hand on the knob before her voice stopped him.  
  
"Hold it mister! I thought we were going to take the Jag today—you agreed..." Angela shot him a glare to express her seriousness.  
  
"I just thought about it and realized that it might not be such a good idea—I'll have to drive back in to Connecticut to drop you off, pick up the van and then drive back to Brooklyn," Tony argued. It was the best excuse he could think of.  
  
"You never let me take the train home after we go out," Angela pointed out. "You always insist on driving me home. No matter where our date is."  
  
"Well, maybe I'm realizin' I've got to give you space. You're a big girl, and you can drive yourself home," Tony grumbled. He hated being so transparent but he certainly was, wasn't he? "After all, you've been doin' it before we met, and that's longer than we've been friends, right? So you should be used to drivin' yourself around."  
  
"Oh, okay," Angela nodded and took a breath. "Sit now," she said, pointing to the couch.  
  
He looked at her with his puppy dog brown eyes, hoping she'd break. When she showed no signs of it, however, he thought better of his plan, and moved to the couch.  
  
"We're gonna be late," he whined.  
  
"Not if we talk quickly. We're going to discuss this first." Taking his hand, Angela braced herself. She knew what she had to ask, and she knew what had to be said, so it was all a matter of just doing it. "Are you ashamed of me?"  
  
Tony looked at her in shock. "What?"  
  
"Are you ashamed of me," Angela asked again, her voice staying level and calm.  
  
"No! Why would I be? You clean up good, you're beautiful, you have great teeth, and they're all your own..." Tony stopped. "They are all your own, right?"  
  
Angela laughed. "Tony, stop!" Her voice was much more cheerful now, betraying her mood. He could always make her laugh and smile. It was this amazing skill that only he possessed because on bad days, she knew, he'd be the only one able to make her find something good about it.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Then why can't we take the Jag in?"  
  
Tony didn't answer, instead sitting looking at their hands resting on her thigh, their fingers entwined together.  
  
"It's a nice car, and it's a comfortable ride in, and I don't feel like having to push start the van today in my new dress," Angela said, listing the reasons against taking the van as subtly as possible. "And you hate it when I take the train home by myself. You make me call you when I get to the train station and then you make me call you again when I get home."  
  
"What if I just make you call 'cause I wanna hear your voice." Tony gently brushed a few errant hairs from in front of her face causing her to shiver in response.  
  
"I'd say you don't need a reason to ask me to call other than just wanting to talk to me. I'd also say you were avoiding talking about the Jag."  
  
"I just don't know if we should drive up in a new Jag to a wedding in Brooklyn," Tony finally argued. "It don't look right."  
  
"And why doesn't it look right? It's a vehicle. You said it yourself a thousand times in the last week; nobody is going to be watching us...they're going to be watching Philly and Louise, right?" Squeezing his hand, she leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Go get the gift from the van and meet me around back?"  
  
"Okay," Tony conceded, watching her walk into the kitchen. "Madonna mia, this is strange," he whispered as he made his way to the front door to get the expensive crystal wine glasses Angela bought for his friends.  
  
2***  
  
"Philly, my man, you took the plunge," Tony said, slapping his friend on the back before embracing him in a tight hug. "I'm proud of ya! For the first time in your life you'll wear matching socks!"  
  
Philly laughed at his friend's statement. "Man, you know you shouldn't pick on my mother—she ain't got much eyesight left; it's hard to match socks without knowin' what colour or style they are!" Tugging on his powder blue suit, Philly tried to relax into a 'cool' stance, but instead found himself feeling more out of place. He was a jeans and t-shirt kind of guy, and the suit was definitely cramping his style, and not having his hat made him feel like a turtle out of his shell.  
  
Angela smiled uncomfortably at the exchange in front of her, thinking how strange it was that they were talking about socks at a wedding. But then again, leave it to Tony to surprise her. Philly on the other hand was the kind of guy you'd expect to see fidgeting and less composed. He wasn't as confident as Tony, which is probably why his conversation about socks didn't really surprise her at all.  
  
"Angela! You look, well, wow," Philly said, hugging the woman and interrupting her train of thought.  
  
"Thanks Philly. That's what Tony said too," Angela teased, wiggling her way out of his grip.  
  
"Hey, this is the famous Angela career woman," Louise finally said, stepping forward and introducing herself to the tall thin blonde woman before her. The shorter, heavier woman was draped in what seemed like miles of white silky-satiny material, and if Angela hadn't known better, she might have thought Louise had been attacked by a mutant sewing machine and a roll of fabric—the dress was as eclectic as she had ever seen. Not her first choice in wedding dress, Angela thought, but thankfully she was no where near worrying about it.  
  
"I prefer just to be called Angela, although my proper last name is Bower," she said through clenched teeth, although amicably. Extending her hand to the bride, Angela sized up the woman who was, what she would consider, typically Italian; very curvy (although definitely on the 'weightier' side) and attractive with dark olive skin and saucers for eyes, as well as perfectly formed amazing lips. Angela mentally kicked herself, wondering if her ancestry did anything for her other than dictate her paler-than- white shade of skin.  
  
"Well, Angela Bower, I'm glad you could make it to our weddin'," Louise said, as she smiled adoringly at Philly.  
  
They certainly were an interesting pair, Angela thought as the couple mysteriously disappeared to circulate among their other guests. Then again, she wondered, how many people were saying the exact same thing about her and Tony?  
  
**  
  
"Angela, you want more of those little crab puffs?" Tony looked at her plate and noticed she was getting low on food.  
  
"Mmm," was her only response and before she knew it, he was back and had a plate full of more appetizers for them to share. "You read my mind," she said sweetly, before stealing another puff off the plate.  
  
"Actually, you could say I read your plate," Tony laughed.  
  
"There is so much food here," Angela commented, looking around the basement hall of the church, filled with people and an over-abundance of food.  
  
"That's 'cause this is a Brooklyn weddin' and on Pitkin Avenue, when you get married, everyone brings food to the reception—it's like a pot luck almost," Tony said happily. It was really the almost ideal way to have a wedding, he thought, because it allowed everyone to contribute with the thing they loved most: food.  
  
"Oh, oh no," Angela said quickly, "they're going to think badly of me—I just brought a gift, no food!" The panic was evident in her voice. She wanted to fit in, and she wanted Tony to be happy he brought her, not disappointed that she wasn't a Brooklyn girl who knew all of the ways of the city.  
  
"Eh oh, don't panic—I made some thing from us, 'cause I knew if you found out, you'd kill me for not tellin' you sooner!" Tony was pleased with his ability to think it through in advance.  
  
"You did," she asked sweetly.  
  
"Of course I did—I wanted you to feel like you're a part of Brooklyn, and it couldn't hurt to have the support of the natives," he offered her more food by pushing the plate nearer to her.  
  
"So what did we bring?" Angela liked the way 'we' sounded, especially in the context of them doing things together.  
  
"Well, I made crab puffs, and Micelli Meatballs," he said, gesturing towards the perfectly spherical shapes on the plate.  
  
"You made everything yourself?"  
  
"Yep...I'm not just cute, but I'm great in the kitchen," Tony said, smiling.  
  
"And I bet you look fab in an apron," a woman interrupted, sitting down.  
  
"Candy, eh, uh, hey, how's it goin'?" Tony turned a whiter shade of pale, obviously remembering who the woman was, and realizing the potential for awkwardness.  
  
"Better now that you're here," she said, sliding into the chair beside Tony and shifting over towards him until she was practically sitting on his lap.  
  
"Candy, how nice to meet you," Angela said extending her hand. When the younger woman didn't accept it, Angela smiled cordially before hiding her clenched fists under the table.  
  
"Oh yeah," Tony faked his way through an introduction. "Candy, this is my friend Angela, Angela this is my friend Candy..."  
  
"You're not as friendly with her as you were with me, are ya Ton?" Candy sized up Angela, noting how she wasn't very much like what Tony traditionally dated. She was hardly Italian. "'Cause if you are, I think Mrs. Rossini will wanna talk to you 'bout the birds and the bees," she said.  
  
Angela realized what the woman was not-so-subtly implying and choked back her disappointment in Tony. She never would have thought he'd date someone quite like that girl, with the over-sized but perfect breasts, and gaudy jewelry. Then again, when working her way through a list of women he might date, she didn't even make the top ten, so worrying about him having dated yet another Italian Goddess was probably inappropriate.  
  
"Eh oh, Candy, this is my friend and she ain't done nothin' to you, so back off, will ya?" Tony looked at Candy with his eyes pleading for her to stop. He was not about to let a fight break out in the middle of Philly's wedding.  
  
"Yeah, well call me when you're done," the brunette with the body of a playboy bunny said, standing but before leaving planting a kiss on Tony's forehead, jetting her 'assets' into his face.  
  
When she was finally gone to disrupt someone else's life, Tony turned back to Angela. "I'm real sorry 'bout her. I dated her for a while last year at Philly's request. Not my favourite story to tell," he said, concluding in a whisper.  
  
Angela just forced a smile and went back to her meatballs and crab puffs, wondering if she really did belong there, and even if she didn't, whether or not she'd be hurting Tony with her presence.  
  
"Hey, you look more than wow, by the way. You look like a movie star," he told her shifting his chair closer to her and absently stroking her arm.  
  
"A movie star, huh?" Angela smiled at the contact, pleased that at least he wasn't ashamed of being there with her and more than happy that he was comfortable.  
  
"Like a blonde Audrey Hepburn," he commented. "With a long beautiful neck, and you are so confident. And you have that great smile that you have to work to get out of you sometimes..."  
  
Angela blushed at the compliments. "I think you need to have your eyes tested."  
  
"What? My socks don't match?" Tony pulled his seat away and tugged up his pant legs to check his socks.  
  
And that did it. It was all it took for Angela to break out into hysterical laughter.  
  
"And you have a great laugh," Tony said seriously before leaning towards her and kissing her sweetly.  
  
3***  
  
Another day, another dollar, Tony thought, as he made his way towards his truck for another day of delivering to offices. Fed Ex was hardly his dream employer, but he knew what he needed to do: he needed to get ahead finally so he might be able to do something nice for Sam, and maybe do something for Angela. He wanted to make sure he could take care of his girls, even if Angela certainly didn't need taking care of. There was still the matter of his Italian macho pride that told him that if he was going to have a relationship with Angela, he'd have to do it right. He'd have to be a contributor as much as possible.  
  
"Hey, Tony, need to talk to you for a sec," a man who was nearly spherical in shape barked down the corridor.  
  
"Micelli or Gallo," Tony called back, making sure he was responding correctly. It was New York and there were about a dozen Tonys for every single 'Bob' or 'Dave' and at least half of them were probably Italians with dark hair and the same Brooklyn swagger. It seemed his boss was always mixing them up.  
  
"You, Micelli, come in here..." Walking into his office, the man lit up a cigarette and made his way to his desk, which was only marginally wider than he was.  
  
Tony made his way in and took a seat. "Yeah Frank?"  
  
"We just changed our service times," Frank began, puffing on his cigarette and staring down the younger man with beady black eyes. He looked uncharacteristically uptight, making Tony feel more than a little anxious. Over all he had always been a very relaxed boss, and he never really bothered to do much other than periodically check that everyone's uniforms were in good shape, and that no one was working too much over time and costing him money.  
  
"I know—those ten am deliveries are hell; none of the office staff wants to be awake that early." Tony laughed but wondered why he was really there.  
  
"Well, we just started doin' overnight deliveries. They say it's gonna be the way of the world—next day service on just 'bout everything, and they want us to make sure it happens. They're not givin' us more men, or more hours, so we just got to make due with what we got."  
  
Tony nodded, an ominous feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. This was turning out to be a very bad thing. This was going to be a meeting from hell, no doubt. "What's that mean?"  
  
"Means you're gonna have to pick up three overnight shifts a week to get things from the depot and make deliveries. Six to six Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. The other days you're gonna be workin' the early delivery shift," Frank said, his cigarette waiving in his hands as he spoke.  
  
"I can't work that—it's bad enough I can't pick Sam up from school or get her ready, but now I can't say goodnight to her three nights a week?"  
  
"Well, you either work it, or you go down to part time, which is Saturday from 12 'til 9 and Sunday from 10 'til 2."  
  
"I can't live on 12.5 hours, Frank." Tony listened as his world crumbled around him. Rome may well have not been built in one day, but it had taken less than fifteen minutes to rip it down.  
  
"You're the newest guy I've got, so it's up to you. You gotta do it, man."  
  
"My wife died, there ain't no one else to take care of my daughter. It's either me, or she's on her own, so do you think maybe one of the other guys could take it?"  
  
"You're the last one hired, and you're the one that has to do it. I talked to everyone else, and they all said no. It's you, or I find someone new who will do it."  
  
Tony kicked himself, wishing he had some sort of back up plan. He couldn't work so few hours, but he really wasn't sure that they'd be able to survive on the strange schedule they otherwise proposed.  
  
"Can you give me a day to think about it?"  
  
"Sure, but if you show up tomorrow, it'd better be for six," Frank said before waiving his hands as if to push Tony out of the office.  
  
"Thanks," he said his head and his heart saying two different things.  
  
4***  
  
"I don't know what to do, Mrs. Rossini, I just don't. I can't work that kind of shift—what will happen to Sam?" Tony watched as the woman heaped gargantuan portions of spaghetti on to his plate.  
  
"Well I can pick up some slack, and a few of the women in the neighbourhood could help out—I mean, Ton, you don't got a lot of choices. You need money, and you ain't gonna get it from nowhere. You gotta work for it."  
  
"I know," he agreed, "but I can't even look for another job on that schedule."  
  
The older woman sat down beside him. "How much do you got saved?"  
  
Tony thought about it for a minute. In all honesty, saving wasn't really an option—he had barely had enough money to make ends meet, let alone put some extra away.  
  
"Okay, so ya got nothin'?" She tried again, since he had yet to answer her first question.  
  
"Nothin'."  
  
"Eat," she said, "and we'll think this through. There's gotta be a way that we can work this out."  
  
Tony just looked down at his plate and considered his options, debating whether or not he could come up with some solution before the next day, and if not, if he would show up for work or start pounding the pavement that day.  
  
**  
  
"You didn't call to tell me the game plan for tomorrow night," Angela said into the phone, "so I thought I'd give you a call and see if you'd thought about it."  
  
Tony suddenly had the most dooming thought: if he wasn't going to be able to see Sam at all, what were the odds of him being able to see Angela? They had finally started to make a go of a relationship, and now he'd have to chicken out and tell her he just didn't have time? Tony cringed at the thought.  
  
"Hey, I just haven't had a chance to call yet," he said honestly. "It's been a crazy day."  
  
"You're telling me," Angela grumbled. "My housekeeper quit to go live with her boyfriend that I never even knew she had. I think secretly she's just sick of cleaning house and saw him as a way out..."  
  
"Eh oh, harsh or what? Maybe she's just doin' what she's gotta do." He regretted the tone of his voice which was much more argumentative than he had intended.  
  
"Ok, well that's possible too."  
  
There was a moment of eery silence.  
  
"What's wrong," Angela asked, suddenly feeling as if there was something he hadn't told her, and worried what it might be.  
  
"Just a few things gone wrong today. But it happens that way, ya know?"  
  
"Yes, but usually things don't get to you the way whatever this is has...Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
Tony thought for a moment. As much as he'd regret this, he had to talk to her and explain why he wouldn't be able to see her for a while. He had to talk to her and explain that it wasn't her, because he knew she'd take it personal.  
  
"Can I come in to see ya?"  
  
"It's that bad?" Angela's voice got softer and quieter, afraid what he might have to say.  
  
"Maybe," he said quietly, wishing he could take back all of the day's events and do something more fun that evening.  
  
"Come on in. Jonathon's gone away with mother on some sort of camping trip—she was feeling incredibly brave. Or stupid, I'm not sure."  
  
"Alright, I'm just gonna talk to Sam about some things, and then I'll be right in."  
  
"Drive safe," she said, chewing on her lip.  
  
"I will." Tony felt like wounded animal hanging up the phone. He wanted things to be perfect but instead they were crumbling around him.  
  
Angela sat on the edge of her couch and pondered what he might possibly want to talk about, and all evidence seemed to point towards their relationship as much as anything else.  
  
Regretting her inability to not over-think things, Angela sighed. It was all a matter of time, and Tony would tell her what his bad news was.  
  
5***  
  
Ringing the doorbell, Tony wondered if there was ever a reason other than bad news to be visiting Angela in Connecticut, but then he realized that there were indeed many happy times in between as well.  
  
After every date he had come back with her and dropped her off, stood on the porch like a little puppy watching her go inside, and fighting that urge to join her. He would say good night to the door after she had left, stay a minute and consider ringing the bell, and then he'd give up, and make his way home to Brooklyn.  
  
This time there wasn't as much hope that things would work out. This time he had to tell Angela that he wouldn't be able to really see her much any more, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that she had no good reason to wait on a relationship with him.  
  
By the time he was in a position to actually see her again, she probably would be dating the likes of Grant.  
  
"I was wondering how long you were going to stand out here before you rang the bell. I was going to give you another three minutes and then come out here anyway." Angela smiled meekly, hoping he'd laugh.  
  
"Well, ya know, I like to breathe in this fresh Connecticut air—there's nothin' in it but oxygen," he pointed out. "Can't figure out where all the pollution gets filtered out exactly, but it's gotta happen somewhere in between."  
  
Opening the door wider, she made a sweeping gesture with her arm to invite him in.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No problem," Angela said, making her way to a spot on the couch. "Do you want something to drink? Anything at all?" She was definitely in want of cognac or something else to take the edge off of the impending conversation.  
  
"Uh, I don't know. Not right now, I don't think," he replied, trying to muster some semblance of courage.  
  
"Probably best. I'm not really sure where everything's kept. The next few days will be interesting, I think. Like hide and seek, but everything's already hidden and with no clues as to where they'll all be."  
  
Tony laughed at the image of Angela rummaging for laundry detergent. "Have you ever done laundry before?"  
  
"No, but how hard can it be? It's a giant cylinder of water and you put your clothes in it, right?"  
  
"Just don't wash anything you love," Tony said jokingly.  
  
She looked at him with that 'I don't get it,' look in her eyes, and he knew that instant that everything she washed would come out a colour different to when it went in. "Before you do your first load, give me a call and I'll walk you through the hard stuff."  
  
"Thanks," Angela said, wondering what was eating away at him. He didn't even look like he normally did. Something was different. "So, are you going to tell me what's going on, or are you going to sit here and talk about my laundry all night?"  
  
Tony shrugged. "It was a bad day at work."  
  
"Uh oh, what happened? Did they change your route again, because this is getting silly? It seems like every week they put you on a new one. How are you ever supposed to get used to the one you have?"  
  
"Well, sort of."  
  
"Tony, you need to talk to Frank about that—tell him that you can't provide the quality of service they would want if they are always changing things on you." Angela was frustrated—did it ever occur to them that the point of management was to make all aspects of the business work as fluently as possible? Did it ever occur to them that by changing shifts every week they'd be building their own troubles; they'd be alienating staff as well as costing them valuable time lost to having to find where things are.  
  
"Well, this should be the last mix up for a while, I'm guessin'," Tony said, upset at the mere thought of it all.  
  
"Oh." She didn't understand obviously as well as she thought she did, otherwise she wouldn't be sitting there wondering what the hell was going on.  
  
"They've changed my shift again. Two days a week I work 5am until 2pm, and three days a week I work 6pm to 6am," Tony explained.  
  
"What? That's a crazy number of hours and shifts. What are they talking about?"  
  
"We're branching out into 'overnight' deliveries, which means that we need to have someone running overnight. Before we didn't do our own—we used someone else—but it's bad for our image to be hirin' Purolator to do it for us, so now we're doin' it ourselves." Tony grumbled something incoherently. "I'm the newest guy, so I get the shift that no one else wants."  
  
"Oh." Angela was trying to grasp all of the implications of what he was saying. There was a lot more to it than just working longer hours, because he already worked pretty awful hours. Something else was bothering him, and she was too nervous to venture a guess as to what.  
  
"With the new schedule, I'm not gonna be home much, and I'm not gonna see much of Sam."  
  
"If you want, I'm sure she could spend some time with me in the evenings, to take some strain off of you, and save you finding a babysitter. You know, if ever you need someone," Angela offered. She definitely understood his plight, after all, she had to find a housekeeper who didn't mind all of Jonathon's quirks (which was no small feat) and who could help balance out the family/work part of her life too.  
  
Tony wondered what he had done to deserve someone like her. He was about to tell her that they probably wouldn't be seeing each other anymore and she was telling him that she would help balance out his life a bit. What was he thinking?  
  
"Well, I'm just worried. I mean, I'm not gonna be home much any more except for Saturday and Sunday nights, and even then, Saturday mornin' I'll be gettin' in around seven. I'm gonna be pretty tired. And then I have to help Sam with everything I can, and I gotta do stuff for the neighbourhood..."  
  
And finally Angela was starting to get the picture. "So when you say you're worried, you mean..."  
  
"That Sam's gonna be without me most of the week, that's a big one. That I'm not gonna have time for everyone who deserves my time is another big one."  
  
"So...what does all this mean," Angela asked, not wanting to come right out and say it. She didn't want to put the words in his mouth.  
  
Silence. It was probably the most painful thing she could imagine—the silence of him trying to find the words to break up with her when their relationship was just barely at that stage where it might be applicable.  
  
"I guess I'm lettin' you know that I'm not gonna be around much—with my work and worryin' about Sam...I don't know when we'll get to see each other again," he said, his throat tight. He hated it.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I'm real sorry," he said quickly, "I never expected this to happen. I mean, I never expected my schedule to be so weird. But it is now and I can't afford to quit, 'cause then I can't pay for us to live in the glamorous apartment we've become accustomed to."  
  
"Well, what if I help you out, until you get another job. Just a loan, even, to keep you from having to work like that?" Angela knew his pride would probably say no to any offer of assistance, but a part of her just wanted him to take it, and let her do that for him and Sam, and selfishly enough, for her.  
  
"I couldn't," he said, rather predictably.  
  
"Well, then...what if I made it a gift? Combine all the holidays, and maybe that would get you through a few months?"  
  
"Eh oh, what kind of gifts do you give," Tony asked, shocked. "Seriously, Angela, thank you, but I couldn't take your money."  
  
"But you wouldn't be taking my money, I'd be giving it to you as a gift—you'd be accepting a gift." She tried to clarify.  
  
Tony sighed. "You know, you're such an amazing woman, Angela, and you deserve someone better than me in your life, so why don't you just make this easy on us both, and realize that?"  
  
He felt a piece of his heart break off and begin it's free float into his throat. He didn't want to say anything of the sort—he didn't want to lose her—but the truth of the matter was he genuinely didn't feel good enough for her.  
  
"Is this the: it's not you it's me speech?" Angela's eyes were burning with threatening tears. The last thing she wanted was to be the one who just wouldn't get it—who just couldn't take a hint. She'd dated people like that before, and she hated how they just chose not to clue in at all. But a part of her was fighting back, saying that it wasn't what she had assumed.  
  
"No," Tony said defensively, terrified by what might come of this if he continued to argue the point.  
  
"Then what is this? Because I'm not going to let you stop whatever this is because you don't want to let me help you, and I'm sure as hell not going to go rushing into the arms of Grant or anyone else at work just because you tell me it's better this way—I do have some concept of what I want and deserve you know, so don't try and dictate that to me." And there it was. She had spilled her guts to him and told him everything she had been feeling (short of the anxiety about telling him it all) and was sitting there, emotionally naked and waiting for a response.  
  
"I don't know what's going to happen," he said simply. "I don't know what I'm going to do. If I don't show up there tomorrow night for six, I don't have a job, and if I do show up there, I don't know what it's going to mean..."  
  
"Well, what if I keep my eyes peeled for a job for you—see if I can find something at the agency?"  
  
"Oh yeah sure, you lookin' at hiring someone for executive?"  
  
"No, but we might be hiring in the mailroom, or somewhere entry level. It's not bad pay usually, and it's pretty set hours." Angela hoped he'd take her offer. If she had to, she'd make a position somewhere in there for him, but she wasn't going to lose the best guy she had ever met because he was insecure about taking help, and his employer was an idiot.  
  
"You know, you're a funny woman, Angela Bower."  
  
"Oh yeah?"  
  
"Yep. Here I am some guy from Brooklyn who kinda just lost his job, and you're still here holding my hand," he said, gesturing to their entwined fingers.  
  
"My hands were cold," she joked.  
  
"Ah, well, that won't do," Tony said, lifting her hands up to his lips and kissing them before he folded them into his own and looked deeply into her eyes. "I don't deserve you."  
  
"I don't deserve you either, but that's not stopping me."  
  
6***  
  
"Eh oh, Dad, do you think when I get old enough, Mrs. Bower'd get me a job at her agency?" Sam watched her dad as he rummaged through his closet.  
  
"Sam, you're a long way off gettin' a job," Tony replied, looking for his black sports jacket.  
  
"So? When I get one, I wanna be the boss like she is."  
  
Tony stopped what he was doing. "You want to be like Angela?"  
  
"Why not? She's pretty, and she's got a big house, and she's got a big yard, and she's just got promoted to President. That's pretty cool." Sam was resting her head on her palms, watching carefully as he froze.  
  
"I dunno, I just thought you might wanna be like your mom, or like Mrs. Rossini."  
  
"They're cool too," Sam said confidently, "but ain't it cool Mrs. Bower has a life and she works and she's doin' everythin' for herself? It's neat that she ain't got nobody to tell her what to do or how to act."  
  
"Well her clients tell her what they want..."  
  
"Yeah, but they're payin' her to listen."  
  
Tony chuckled, never anticipating the day his daughter would want to be anything other than a baseball player. He had never thought she'd be a housewife—she was much too independent for that, and he fully expected her to get a good education—but for the first time ever he was impressed to learn his daughter wanted something more too, and that Angela had helped her come to that realization.  
  
"So, do you think she might get me a job someday?"  
  
"Maybe," Tony said, wondering if they would all still know each other at a time when Sam would be old enough to need a job.  
  
***  
  
"So Sam says she wants to be like you," Tony said, walking into Angela's office on her secretary's suggestion. "Oh, sorry, didn't realize you had company."  
  
"Every little girl wants to be like her," the man said. He was small and slimy looking, with beady little eyes and a stature that seemed very much like he would fall over at any moment for lack of a backbone.  
  
"Jim Peterson, this is Tony Micelli," Angela said, making her way around the desk to introduce the two. "Jim's one of the Vice Presidents here."  
  
"Oh, hey, nice to meet you," Tony said, extending his hand.  
  
"Nice to meet you too," Jim said, wondering what truck this guy fell off.  
  
"So, Jim, do you have anything else, or are you done?" Angela reclaimed her 'presidential' pose and looked over at him once more.  
  
"We're done," he said, smiling politely and nodding between the two. Pulling the door shut on his way out, Jim wondered what the story was in there.  
  
"So?"  
  
"So he said I could start tomorrow," Tony said happily.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah!" Getting caught up in the moment, he pulled her into a tight embrace and lifted her off the ground.  
  
Angela's heart just about stopped. Her knees weakened and her head felt light. He was so amazing.  
  
Placing her back down on the ground, Tony hadn't quite let go yet, too much enjoying the feeling of having her in his arms. "He said I could start tomorrow and that this week I'd get paid cash so I'd be caught up with everyone else, and then I'd be on a regular pay cycle."  
  
"Is the money okay?"  
  
"It's $28 more a week than I was making with Fed Ex, so yeah, definitely ok. And he said I'll be workin' normal-ish hours."  
  
"Great," Angela said, secretly thankful that Daryl down in personnel hadn't let it slip that she had pulled some strings and created an extra opening in mail-management.  
  
"Thank you," Tony said, his eyes bright and twinkling. "I know you had a lot of sway in all this, and I really do appreciate it."  
  
"I just had to convince Daryl that you weren't a relative, that's all. The rest was you," she told him sweetly. "So Sam wants to be like me?"  
  
"Yep. She asked if you'd let her work for you when she was older."  
  
Angela felt her heart do back flips. "And you told her...?"  
  
"We'd see."  
  
"Good answer," Angela agreed.  
  
"So, can you come out to celebrate? I thought about making dinner for all of us tonight back at my place." Tony had yet to move away from her, which he was worried she'd see as being impolite, but she was emitting some gravitational force on him, and he couldn't move.  
  
"That sounds nice. But I'd have to bring Jonathon and mother, so maybe it'd be easier for you guys to come out?"  
  
"You're not plannin' on cookin' are you?"  
  
"No. No, I know to leave that to you experts," Angela teased.  
  
"Ok, so why don't Sam and I pick you up around five and we'll all head in together?"  
  
Angela nodded. "Sounds good. Now I have to get back to work, and you have to head out. You can do some early afternoon celebrating."  
  
"Great. I'll see you in a few hours."  
  
"Yep," she said, nearly wincing when his arms left her waist. "Meet me in front of the building?"  
  
"Sure, and we'll even let you sit in the front," Tony smiled, making his way out of the office.  
  
It was going to be interesting, Angela thought. All these emotions were boiling over in her and now they were going to be working in the same office building.  
  
7***  
  
"Oh my gosh, Sam, what happened to you?" Looking at the young girl, Angela took Sam's face in her hands and examined the shiner.  
  
"I got in a fight," she replied simply, trying not to look at her father who was giving her 'that look' in the rearview mirror.  
  
"What?" Angela gasped at the shades of yellow and brown marking the girl's skin.  
  
"Some kid at school started callin' me a sissy 'cause I refused to play football with him and his friends, and then they all started singin' this song about me bein' a wimp...And I just got tired of it, so I told 'em to knock it off, and when they wouldn't, I slugged 'em." The gleam in her eyes made it more than slightly apparent that she was proud of her accomplishment.  
  
"What a horrible little boy! He hit a girl?"  
  
"Eh oh, I ain't no girl, I'm a Micelli, and we can fight," Sam said indignantly. "You think this is bad, you should see him."  
  
"Samantha," Tony said in his thick Brooklyn accent. "We're never proud of our fights. We fight when we hafta, but we don't go lookin' for it, no matter how many names they call us."  
  
Sam tried not to argue, and tell him how many times he had done the exact same thing. She had heard the stories, but she also knew that Mrs. Bower did not want to hear them. She didn't want to hear about Tony's rough and tumble days as a Brooklyn teen.  
  
"Sometimes walking away is more powerful than any punch," Angela told the girl, realizing that her pacifist tendencies were much too blatant.  
  
"Sure it is. And sometimes a good punch is stronger than some guy's nose." Sam realized she had said more than she should, her father give her that look that basically stopped her cold in her tracks.  
  
"I got to spend my afternoon at the school, tellin' the principal why he shouldn't kick out my daughter," Tony said in his best 'angry father' tone.  
  
"No celebrating for you then?"  
  
"None."  
  
Angela sighed. She had hoped he would go out with a couple of friends and maybe have a drink; she wanted him to have some celebration of his new job. Well, then it would just be her job to try and think of something nice to do for him.  
  
**  
  
"Mother, please, he's in there cooking us a meal, the kids are out playing together...what are we going to do for him to help him celebrate his new job? This is a big deal, and I don't want him to feel like he missed out on something because Sam got in a fight, and we're having dinner."  
  
"I often feel like I've missed out on something when I have to spend time with you—why should he be any different?" Mona gave her daughter her best cheeky smile before shrugging her shoulders. "Don't ask me. All the things I can come up with you wouldn't do."  
  
"Mother!"  
  
"What? You said you wanted him to celebrate. How better to celebrate than to pop the cork on..."  
  
"MOTHER!"  
  
"A nice bottle of champagne," Mona said sweetly, her eyes glistening. "What did you think I was going to say?"  
  
"Uh huh," Angela agreed, looking towards the kitchen. "I'm going to see if Tony needs any help."  
  
"Do us all a favour and don't touch anything, ok?"  
  
Sighing, Angela made her way into the kitchen and out of the watchful eye of her mother. If she was being completely honest with her, she would have told her that there was something more there that she wasn't willing to talk about, but that would be too great of a confession.  
  
"How's it going," Angela asked, peering over Tony's shoulder.  
  
"Pretty good. Who ever arranged your kitchen before...they did a good job. I'm findin' most of what I need. And whatever I can't find, I just work around." Tony laughed. "But whoever it was, they left some huge pile of crunchy crawlers in your cupboard."  
  
Angela laughed nervously. "Oh, those are for breakfast. Jonathon won't eat anything else."  
  
"Would if I was here," Tony said, then realized, but it was too late to backtrack.  
  
"Oh yeah?" Angela liked Tony's hypothetical world, which scared her. She started to wonder if maybe she was letting herself get carried away with all of the 'maybes' and 'perhaps if' that she would let roll around in her mind when she was laying in bed at night.  
  
"Yeah." Tony said, realizing there wasn't any going back anyway; he might as well just SAY it. "He wouldn't be eatin' pure sugar for breakfast...and what do you eat? Crunchy crawlers?" Tony eyed her. "I bet you're a coffee and juice woman—not even eatin' real food."  
  
"If I want crunchy crawlers," Angela said, her back straightening as Tony moved closer, "then that's what I'll have."  
  
"Not if I was here," Tony countered. "That's all I'm sayin'."  
  
Angela smiled and in a move of particular boldness decided to just say 'it'. "So, is that you asking if you can be here in the morning?" Her voice was lower than normal, giving it a sultry, sexier tone.  
  
Tony was put a little aback by her question, realizing their bodies were very close to one another's.  
  
"Hey, dad," Sam said, bounding through the kitchen door.  
  
Tony and Angela immediately took three steps backwards, in an attempt to not be too near each other.  
  
"Yeah?" His voice squeaked a bit, but he recovered well enough to try for a conversation.  
  
"Did you know that in Connecticut they never fling dead rats?"  
  
Tony shook his head, realizing that his daughter had just interrupted the most serious moment of his relationship with Angela thus far.  
  
"That's 'cause we don't have rats," Jonathon said, having trailed through the door directly behind Sam.  
  
"I'm happy about that, too," Angela interjected, pleased that her voice hadn't failed her. "That was half of the appeal of Fairfield over the city."  
  
"A place without rats, Sam, ain't that heaven?"  
  
"They have a back yard too...Dad, you gotta marry this woman," Sam said teasingly as she chased Jonathon back out the door.  
  
Angela and Tony stared at each other for a painfully long moment before either one of them could even think of regaining conscious thought. Sam had mentioned the 'm' word, and they had never really thought about it seriously. How would that be possible? Would they be able to have a relationship without one of them messing it up?  
  
"So..."  
  
"You wanna carry this into the dining room?" Tony offered her a plate of perfectly sliced Italian bread.  
  
"Sure," Angela said, "but first..." Taking the plate in her hands she held it between them as she leaned in for a kiss, gently exploring his mouth.  
  
They both had to fight the urge to drop the plate as the kiss intensified, but somehow they managed to hold, on.  
  
"Wow," Tony said as they parted.  
  
"Yep. And in the morning, if I want crunchy crawlers?" Her voice had taken on that tone again.  
  
"I'll make you a real breakfast," Tony said, realizing what he had just committed to.  
  
8***  
  
Mona found herself watching her daughter during dinner. Something about the way Angela was handling herself made her think that when they were in the kitchen together, something had happened.  
  
All through out dinner she noticed Angela passing Tony these long silent glances, and Mona couldn't help but notice that Tony had spent most of the night squirming like a six year old boy trapped a table full of boring adults.  
  
Angela was engaging the children in conversation about school and their academics, while Tony did everything he could to avoid looking too comfortable. Each time Angela asked him to pass something down the table he smiled, remembering their exchange in the kitchen over the bread, and then had to avert his eyes away from her for fear of giving too much away.  
  
For their part, the children were blissfully unaware that anything had changed between the 'grownups' in their presence. Sam happily went on and on about Tony's days in the majors, while Jonathon ate quietly, periodically asking what something meant. It was, Angela realized, as much for her benefit as his, as she had no clue what half the terms meant.  
  
Something, Mona surmised, had happened, and it was her mission to figure it out.  
  
After dinner, when Angela had suggested watching a movie, Mona glanced at her watch, surprised that her daughter was encouraging starting something more at 8:30 at night. The wheels in her head started spinning. Could Angela actually be making a move?  
  
By 9:45 both Sam and Jonathon had passed out in their spots on the floor, their arms used as pillows.  
  
"I should take Jonathon up to bed," Angela said softly, tiptoeing around the kids. "It is a school night, after all."  
  
Tony looked at his sleeping daughter and wondered if this had all been a part of the intricate plan Angela seemed to have in place.  
  
"If you and Sam want to spend the night, I can make up the guest room for you." Angela looked over at Tony and down towards Sam. "We could all just head into the city together in the morning," she suggested.  
  
Mona stood up, stretching. She looked between Tony and Angela and wondered how far their relationship had gone so far, and if this was a baby step towards the next stage. From what she knew, Tony hadn't spent the night with his daughter at the house, and Angela hadn't been away from home for the night...Was it possible that their relationship was still strictly that of very good friends? Looking them up and down, Mona decided to help them along with their efforts. "Well, you kids have a good night then, and don't do anything I wouldn't do," she said whimsically.  
  
Angela sighed. "Mother!"  
  
"Good night Angela. Good night Tony. Remember, there are kids just across the hall..." Pulling the door shut behind her, Mona disappeared into the darkness, excited that her daughter might actually be making progress in a relationship.  
  
"If I carry her up behind you, you can show me where she'll be sleepin'?"  
  
Angela nodded, feeling a sudden rush of anxiety wash over her. How did she get herself into this, she pondered. She was about to invite Tony into her room—well, after they had tucked in the kids—and she was nervous about it. That certainly wasn't something she had felt since...well, never.  
  
Making their way up the stairs, both Tony and Angela thought their way through what they would soon be facing, and how they'd go about what was going to come next.  
  
"That guest room is bigger than my apartment," Tony whispered as he exited the room Sam was sleeping in.  
  
"It's bigger than my first apartment was," Angela commented, leaning across the doorway into her bedroom, trying to seem relaxed, no matter how much she felt it was just a show.  
  
Tony laughed. "How long have you lived here?"  
  
"December will be my fifth year here," Angela said, realizing that it would also have been her seven year anniversary with Michael, were he still in their lives. "We moved in here just about a year after Jonathon was born. It was our two year anniversary present to each other."  
  
"One heck of an anniversary present though, don't you think?" Tony leaned against the wall behind him, not making any moves towards her.  
  
"Well, it was our way of establishing our lives—I was pregnant and wanted a place for our baby, and he wanted to prove to me he could settle down."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"He couldn't settle down," Angela said softly. "But I got to keep the house, and most of the memories I have here are my own, with Jonathon of course."  
  
He smiled, thinking about how strong she was. Even though her husband had left her to travel the jungles of South America, she was still standing, and making herself a major player in the advertising business. That was impressive, to say the least.  
  
"You want to see what's on TV?"  
  
"Sure," Tony said, heading towards the steps.  
  
"I have a TV in my bedroom," Angela said quietly, calling after him. "It would probably be more comfortable to watch in there."  
  
And there it was—the ball was in his court—she had just invited him into her room.  
  
"Uh, yeah, sure," Tony said, feeling the nervousness from before return.  
  
"I'm just going to get out of my work clothes, ok, and I'll be right back," Angela said as she made her way into the bedroom.  
  
"I'll wait out here," Tony offered, trying to be gentlemanly.  
  
"Oh, no bother, come on in—there's a bathroom off of the bedroom anyway."  
  
Walking into her bedroom, he felt like he was in a sacred place. The insecurity was quickly building into discomfort as he imagined her in that large bed. He had to keep his mind from running away with him, Tony realized.  
  
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he thought better of it, and got up to turn on the TV. Searching for a late night movie, he was pleased to see that they were playing Singing in the Rain.  
  
"Oooh, I love this movie," Angela said, as she crawled into the bed and pulled back the covers.  
  
"Yeah, me too," he managed, taken by the sight of her in her pajamas. "Uh, Angela, can we talk for a minute?"  
  
The baffled expression on her face was probably enough of an answer but she still managed a "sure."  
  
"I like you—a lot. I like you more than I've liked near anyone. And I really like what we have. But I don't want you to feel like we hafta take the next..." Tony choked on his words, disbelieving that they were actually coming from his mouth. What was wrong with him, he wondered? He'd have to sit and think it through sometime in the near future if he was going to figure out why he kept refusing to sleep with beautiful women. Then again, she was something else. She was something different. "I don't want you to think I'm pressuring you into anythin'. I really really like you..."  
  
"And I feel like I'm in high school again," Angela said, laughing, before she raised herself up on her knees on the bed, folding her legs comfortably underneath her.  
  
"I'm not good at this stuff," Tony said quietly. "I've only been with one person since Marie died, and I knew that was a mistake..."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"I know you're not a mistake, which is why I don't want to rush things." His big brown eyes looked at her as if he was hoping for some sort of response.  
  
"Ok," she said softly, touched by his words. "What if we decide together what we want, and maybe we can take it at that pace?"  
  
Tony smiled. "You're amazing, ya know?"  
  
Angela just smiled. "You bring out the best in me. Now take off your pants, and get in bed," she said teasingly.  
  
"Eh oh, what were we just talkin' about?"  
  
"You never said you wouldn't stay and hold me tonight...Can we at least have that? I promise not to attack you in the middle of the night." Angela managed her way forward a bit on the bed, hoping to persuade him in as well.  
  
When he shook his head but didn't manage his way any further, Angela's hands made quick work of his shirt button's and then undid his belt and button, unzipping his pants and pushing them to the floor with his shirt.  
  
"Now, are you coming to bed?"  
  
Tony was mesmerized by her, and barely able to think coherently. Watching her inch her way back across the bed, he sat down and slid in beside her, pulling the blankets up over himself. Despite wearing an undershirt and boxers, he felt much too naked to be laying beside her without something happening.  
  
As he relaxed into the bed and tried to think nice neutral, non-sexual thoughts, Angela placed her head on his chest and her arm over his stomach. "I love this movie," she said again, getting comfortable. "Sleep well, Tony."  
  
"Yeah," was all Tony managed. "You too."  
  
9***  
  
Waking up, Tony wondered why he hadn't heard any sirens or screaming through the night, and as he opened his eyes, he realized why. He was in Angela's bedroom, in Connecticut, and she was lying next to him. Well, almost, he thought; she was virtually lying on top of him with the way she had wrapped her body around his.  
  
"Good morning," Angela mumbled, her mass of blonde hair tickling his chin.  
  
"Mornin'," Tony replied. "Did you sleep alright?"  
  
"Wonderfully," she answered, looking up at him. "How 'bout you?"  
  
"I didn't know there was a place on earth where ya fell asleep listening to the wind and nothin' else."  
  
Angela laughed. "It really is nice and peaceful here, isn't it?"  
  
Tony nodded.  
  
"So, I didn't smother you too much," Angela asked, hoping that through the night she hadn't been overly affectionate. She knew that she had fallen asleep, her arm wrapped around him, her head on his chest, and at some point through the night she had woken up in his embrace. Sometime between then and now, they had returned to their original position.  
  
"No, not at all." Tony smiled. "So, we should start gettin' ready, I guess. If you wanna grab a shower, I'll go get started on breakfast, and you can wake the kids on your way downstairs?" He didn't want to make himself too comfortable in her house. After all, it was very much her place, not his.  
  
"Sounds good. Crunchy crawlers," she asked teasingly.  
  
"Nope. Not on my life. We're having a real breakfast."  
  
Repositioning herself, Angela pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll see you down stairs," she said, crawling over him and out of the bed, headed towards the bathroom.  
  
Tony smiled after she left, thinking about how great of a way it was to wake up with a beautiful woman in bed beside him and not have the stress of worrying about sex. He loved her for who she was, not what they did together. Suddenly it hit him; he had said the word. Well, not quite said it, but thought it. He had thought about Angela and the word 'love' in the same thought.  
  
***  
  
"Good morning all," Tony said as Sam and Jonathon made their way through the kitchen door, followed by Angela.  
  
"Good morning," the kids said in unison, barely awake yet.  
  
"Something smells great," Angela said as she pulled out her chair.  
  
"Yeah, and it ain't crunchy crawlers," Tony said, beginning to serve scrambled eggs to the group.  
  
"I don't like eggs," Jonathon protested.  
  
"He hasn't eaten them since he was four," Angela whispered.  
  
"I want crunchy crawlers." His voice was near a whine.  
  
"Nope. Sorry, kiddo. Nothin' but empty calories and sugar, and you need to get the day started right. I'll bring over some bacon for you too," Tony said in his very fatherly tone.  
  
"I don't like eggs."  
  
"Then don't eat 'em," Tony said.  
  
"But you won't get anythin' else," Sam warned. "He's a stickler for eatin' healthy. Especially at breakfast."  
  
Angela watched the exchange with something between awe and confusion. Somehow, they had managed to form a family, and she didn't even know how it happened.  
  
"Mom," Jonathon whined.  
  
"Tony's right. You should eat something good to start the day—eat the eggs. They won't kill you." Angela looked down at her own plate heaping with eggs, bacon, and toast and tried to tell herself the same thing. She really was a coffee and orange juice kind of woman. Eating a real meal would be a bit of a trick compared to her normal 'on the go' breakfast.  
  
Sam dug into her food pretty quickly, enjoying the family recipe her dad used for the eggs. They weren't bland like everyone else's. Tony made the best scrambled eggs in the world.  
  
Angela watched carefully as Jonathon played with the food in front of him.  
  
"Eh oh, they aren't gonna taste any better cold," Tony said before sitting down in his place. "And it's either what's in front of you or hunger—you call it, buddy."  
  
It was a sight to see, Angela thought, as her son took a bite of the eggs and instead of gagging apparently he decided they were good enough to consume.  
  
'Wow,' Angela thought, no wonder I love this man so much. She caught herself thinking about him in the context of 'love' instead of 'like' and it worried her. She hadn't even so much as dreamt that word about a man other than Michael. Well, that wasn't totally true; she had a passing crush on David Cassidy, but that was just a celebrity thing, and the fact that he sang so well.  
  
"You too, missy," Tony said, looking at Angela. "Eat up, 'cause we gotta get a move on it soon—we've got to get to work and we gotta get Sam home and changed so she can go to school."  
  
"Dad!"  
  
"You're not missin' school. It's too important, so don't even ask."  
  
"Really, Samantha, school is important," Angela agreed.  
  
"Alright already. Jeez, you two!" Sam smiled, looking between Angela and Tony. "If I didn't know better I'd think yas were married."  
  
Jonathon laughed at the expression of shock on his mother's face.  
  
"Eat up," Tony said playfully, but sternly enough that he hoped his daughter would understand.  
  
Sam just smiled and kept eating.  
  
10***  
  
"Angela invited us to Connecticut for the weekend, what's the big deal?" Tony put another shirt in his overnight bag before neatly folding the cords he had taken out for the weekend as well.  
  
"The big deal is that you've spent the last three weekends in Connecticut, and we ain't hardly seen ya," Mrs. Rossini argued. "You've been working all day and comin' home and spendin' time with Sam and on weekends you take Sam and hide away. We wanna spend time with you too, ya know."  
  
"Yeah, well, it's funny 'cause I wanna spend time with my friends in Connecticut too—I see everyone here all week, and I love you guys but I love them too," Tony countered.  
  
"Love love or love?" Mrs. R looked at him with those big eyes of hers that managed to break down his defenses.  
  
"I don't know. Love," Tony said, realizing that he might not be clarifying as well as he intended to.  
  
"You and Angela—you're in love?" Her voice was betraying her, letting him know exactly what degree of betrayal she was feeling.  
  
"I'm in love. And I think she is too. But what matters is that it's real good for Sam to have Angela in her life, and I'm real good for Jonathon. So these weekends mean a lot to us." He looked at his older neighbour. "Mrs. R, for the first time since Marie died, I feel alive, and I feel like I'm doing somethin' right. I want to keep this. And I want to do whatever I can to make it even better—if it's even possible." Tony smiled weakly at her, hoping she understood what he was trying to say.  
  
"You're going to leave Brooklyn," she said, as if she could see right through him. "You're leavin' the neighbourhood."  
  
He looked at her in shock. Over the past almost year, yes, the idea had been tossed around that he might move out of Brooklyn. Now that he had a better paying job, he could afford somewhere a little nicer, and somewhere at least a little safer.  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, Sam and I talked about it, and we thought about it, but we ain't decided."  
  
"You don't need to," she said, her voice softer now. "You've made the decision. You just gotta figure out how best to get out, don't ya?"  
  
"Mrs. R, we ain't made no decisions. And when we do, you'll be the first one we tell, promise."  
  
The woman smiled feebly at the man she considered a son and realized that she had to figure a way to be happy for him; if moving away was what it would take, he would have to do it, and she would have to come to terms.  
  
***  
  
"Hey," Tony said, popping his head around the corner of Angela's door frame. "You ready to head out?"  
  
Angela looked flustered and tired. "Almost. I just need a bit more time."  
  
"Eh, what's going on?" Walking in and closing the door behind him, Tony looked around her office. There seemed to be a thousand things thrown about haphazardly.  
  
"I've had a tough day," she said, dramatically falling back into her chair. "And if Peterson has his way he'll make it even harder..."  
  
"What's going on?" Sitting in the overstuffed chair in front of Angela's desk, Tony tried to figure out what happened.  
  
"This one campaign we've been working on—it really started to come together, so I wasn't worried about it too much. We had a really good grasp on it." Angela fingered her pen, and tried to avoid looking at Tony.  
  
"So? You're always ahead of the game... And you're the best, so it makes sense that you'd be doin' good."  
  
"Well, someone had a talk with the client. Decided to spew gossip their way and now...Now they're asking for me to give the account to someone else." Angela groaned. This was not the way she wanted to start the weekend.  
  
"Can I help? Want me to punch someone for ya?" Tony smiled, knowing it would draw a warm response from her.  
  
"No, no. I think I just need to get my mind back in the game and fight fire with fire. But I'll do that on Monday—I shouldn't let it ruin our weekend."  
  
Tony stood and walked around the desk, offering his hand. "Sam's waitin' in the van—she made me stop for candy and treats for this weekend, so we'll make up for the bad start, promise."  
  
Angela laughed. "She knows the way to my heart!"  
  
"Well, she learned from the master," Tony said sweetly.  
  
"Ohh, smooth," Angela commented, leaning in for a friendly kiss. "Mmm..."  
  
"What was the gossip," Tony asked, now that he had her in his arms. He felt fairly certain she couldn't wiggle her way out of an explanation now.  
  
"It was about my ethics—it was silly, really."  
  
"So silly you won't tell me?"  
  
"So silly we needn't really talk about it," she tried, knowing it probably wouldn't work anyway.  
  
"Except you know I'm gonna keep buggin' ya until you tell me. So maybe you should just share it anyway..."  
  
Angela sighed. He was going to find out sooner or later, and when he did, it wouldn't be much different than if he learned of it now.  
  
"Promise not to hurt anyone?" Angela looked at him carefully, hoping he'd agree.  
  
"I'll never hurt you," he said as he held her more snugly.  
  
"The rumour was that I was of questionable ethics because I'm sleeping with someone in the mailroom," Angela said, her voice even but quiet.  
  
"Who are you sleeping with? Do I know him?" Tony looked at her in mock offense.  
  
Angela managed to hold in a laugh. "Well, he's Italian and incredibly sexy, and I'm not sleeping with him, although if I'm going to get credit for it anyway, I might as well. It's not for lack of want."  
  
"Eh oh, what about me?" Tony teased, wishing there was something he could do. Nobody had any right to be delving into their relationship, but then again it was a scandal waiting to happen. He was a glorified mail clerk and she was the president of the company.  
  
"I guess I could sleep with you too," Angela said in her most provocative voice.  
  
"Not me too...me only..."  
  
"Mmmm....okay," she said, placing her lips against his. "Let's get out of here before I feel the need to fire everyone."  
  
"Alright," he said, picking up her coat and helping her on with it. "This weekend will be great, you'll see. And you'll forget all about bratty Jim."  
  
"Already forgotten," she said as she opened the door and led them out.  
  
11***  
  
"Mrs. Bower?"  
  
"Sam, you can call me Angela, you know. I've told you about a dozen times." Smiling at the girl, she took a seat beside her.  
  
"It's just strange...I've been callin' ya Mrs. Bower forever." Sam looked up at her with those big disarming brown eyes.  
  
"Well, now it's time to break the habit and start calling me Angela."  
  
"I'll try," Sam agreed, "but it might take some getting' used to."  
  
Angela winked at the girl to comfort her, pleased that somewhere along the line they had built a great rapport. "So, what did you need?"  
  
Sam suddenly felt awkward, realizing perhaps she wasn't supposed to ask any questions about her dad's relationship. "Well, um..."  
  
"Don't be shy about whatever it is—we're friends, right? Just say it."  
  
"I was just wonderin'..." Sam took a breath, knowing she might get in trouble for what she was about to ask. "Are dad and me movin' in with you and Jonathon?"  
  
The look of surprise on her face was probably a bad start to the conversation, Angela realized, but it was shocking, she had to admit. "Um..."  
  
"I heard Mrs. Rossini sayin' that we were gonna leave Brooklyn, me and Dad, and he has been talkin' 'bout us findin' somewhere new to live. Somewhere safer. He said now that he's got that job, he can afford for us to get a two bedroom place somewhere. But it didn't sound like he was lookin' at apartments. It sounded...kinda different."  
  
Angela tried to think as quickly as possible, realizing that this wasn't one of those conversations where she could take her time to figure things out and then reply—this was important.  
  
"Your father and I haven't really discussed it yet," Angela said quietly, smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle in her slacks. "But if we do discuss it, what do you think? How would you feel about moving out here?" She prepared herself incase the response was less than eager. There had been relatively no sign as to what the young girl wanted to happen as much as she had just asked.  
  
"Well..." Sam thought for a moment, before listing the pros and cons. "I'd miss Mrs. Rossini and everyone from the neighbourhood," she admitted, "but I really like Jonathon—he's a lot of fun, even if he is into creepy-crawly things and silly names for snakes."  
  
Angela waited with baited breath. Sam had never expressed any feelings about Tony dating again or Angela as a person in general.  
  
"I know Jonathon really enjoys having you here—he really looks up to you. And he likes that you don't mind creepy-crawly things," Angela assured her. "I really like having you here too."  
  
"I like being here. It's a real nice place, and you've got a real great mother. Mona's so much fun and Dad's real happy." Sam looked around the room, before looking back at the older woman. "And I really like you. You're fun, even if you are a little up tight sometimes, and you're real nice to me."  
  
Angela laughed. "I've been called worse. I'll take that as a compliment."  
  
"Eh oh, it is! I really like comin' to visit, and I like that we spend so much time with you."  
  
"So if sometime in the future you and your dad ended up moving out here, how would you feel about that?"  
  
"I'd like it," Sam said. "It'd be neat."  
  
"You know that your dad and I are dating, right?"  
  
Sam nodded. "I'm not a kid, Mrs...Angela. I know that. I know that Dad doesn't sleep on the couch when we're here."  
  
Angela gave her a questioning look, somewhat shocked by the revelation.  
  
"I had a bad dream a coupla weekends ago, and I went lookin' for him downstairs but he wasn't there."  
  
"Oh." Angela felt herself blushing crimson, which wasn't helping her case at all, she imagined.  
  
"It's ok. You're way nicer than Candy was, and I like you way more. You're more like a mother—Candy was more like a babysitter."  
  
Angela swallowed back a lump in her throat. She knew that what the girl was saying was that her demeanor was more mature, and more motherly as opposed to Candy's which was more like a high school girl with a crush, but it made her feel good to know that Sam had thought of her in that context. Sam had thought of her as more a mother-figure.  
  
"Well I love you, and your father, very much, and I can't think of anything I'd like more than to spend more time with you. And if the day comes when your dad and I discuss moving in together, I'll let him know how you feel." Angela smiled before wrapping her arms around the girl. "Now, I'm pretty sure you were supposed to be getting ready to go swimming with the Wellingtons, weren't you?"  
  
"Yeah. I just have to grab my bag," Sam said. "Thank you for talkin' to me like I'm an adult and not a kid."  
  
"Thank you for talking to me about this," Angela said sweetly. "We'll talk later again. Promise." Watching the girl race up the steps, she realized that there was more at stake than just a few reputations—there were two kids mixed up in their crazy lives.  
  
12***  
  
She couldn't resist. The kids were out, and Tony was napping on the couch and he looked so damn cute.  
  
Quietly making her way to the sofa, Angela knelt in front of Tony. "Hey sleepy," she said softly, and when he didn't move, she decided to wake him properly. Dragging her fingers along the side of his face, she pressed the tenderest kiss to his lips.  
  
She knew he was awake when his arms wrapped around her in the most awkward position and squeezed her lightly, his lips responding to hers.  
  
In what seemed like less than a second later, he had her on the couch as well, snuggled against his body firmly.  
  
"Well you seem pretty awake suddenly," Angela said, teasing.  
  
"Beautiful women do that to me," he informed her, his head feeling light from the scent of her perfume and the contact with her. It never ceased to amaze him that she had that effect on him, even after all the time they'd spent together.  
  
Angela pouted playfully, enjoying the feeling of resting flush against his body. "I'm not special?"  
  
"Very," he replied. "Very, very special."  
  
"Special enough to live with," she asked, her voice small, her eyes watching his lips intently.  
  
He looked at her in a state of shock, unsure what to make of her question.  
  
"Sam and I had a talk earlier—before the kids left for swimming. And apparently you've been thinking about getting a bigger place?" Angela's hand wrapped tightly in his while she waited for his reply.  
  
"I've looked at a few places. I want somewhere that's gonna be safer for Sam, and maybe a little greener. Sam's gettin' used to all these trees 'round here, and I'd hate for her to go back to never seein' 'em 'cept for in the park." Tony thought for a moment.  
  
"You've never thought of living here?"  
  
"I might've." When he said that, he watched her eyes dim. He didn't want to hurt her, but he also didn't want to pressure her into anything. "I really like bein' with you on the weekends—we have a real great time. And I really love wakin' up next to you," he replied honestly.  
  
"This is the longest relationship I've had with someone that didn't include making love," Angela said quietly. "It's also been the most fulfilling."  
  
In one movement Tony managed to twist them around, so Angela was lying underneath him, his body pressing down on hers as his lips trailed over her jaw bone. "It's also been the most fun," he whispered, matching the volume of her voice.  
  
Angela felt like putty in his hands, him trailing kisses over her. She was barely able to think.  
  
"I have thought about living here and what it would be like, and I know it would be real great but I don't wanna do anything to put a strain on this—I'd miss you too much if anything happened."  
  
It seemed so right, to be able to talk to someone that honestly and it wasn't lost on Angela. She hadn't had that type of relationship with Michael, even if he had it with Marie.  
  
"But it'd be bigger, and there are trees...I'm here, so I could help take care of Sam if you need a hand, and you could help out with Jonathon. He loves you already—thinks you're the best thing since the dissecting tray. And I love you," she said, wondering if she was pushing her luck. She hadn't said the words quite that directly. She had implied it, and she had thought about it, but saying it...that was something a little bigger than she could wrap her mind around, until now, that was.  
  
Tony looked at her, a mixture of joy and surprise in his eyes. "Funny, you know," he said quietly. "I told Mrs. Rossini yesterday that I loved you, and I didn't realize 'til now how true that was. I love you." Leaning in for another kiss, Tony thought how wonderful it was to be telling her and how he wanted to tell her everyday.  
  
It seemed too good to be true, Angela thought. She loved him, he loved her, and they were talking about their relationship. How could it get any better?  
  
"I uh, was thinkin', with all this love...how 'bout we go upstairs?"  
  
Angela smiled. "The kids will be home in a half hour." It wasn't so subtle, but at least he'd know what she meant.  
  
"Oh." He looked like a child with a broken toy, distraught and about to cry.  
  
"But there's always tonight. If we took the kids out when they get home, we could wear them out—I bet a few hours at the park with a Frisbee and they'll be in bed by nine." Angela smiled at him, pleased that they were finally ready to make the next step in their relationship.  
  
"This is true," Tony said. "God, you're a genius. One more reason to love you."  
  
"And you're so complimentary. What more could a woman want?" Angela laughed.  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Ahem... Best not to start anything you can't finish in the next fifteen minutes. We should go get some park-appropriate clothes on, and be ready for the kids."  
  
When his eyes began to beam she realized what he was thinking.  
  
"We should separately go get changed," she clarified.  
  
"Ruin all my fun," he whined.  
  
"Only until tonight," she reminded him.  
  
13***  
  
After an hour and a half at the park, Angela and Tony were probably more exhausted than the kids.  
  
It had begun nice and peacefully, with Sam and Jonathon insisting on feeding the ducks. Angela didn't mind at all, of course, as she loved the little down-covered goslings that seemed to be everywhere. Breaking the bread into little pieces, Angela held her hand flat and perfectly still, waiting for the little balls of cotton to waddle up to her and take it.  
  
Neither Tony nor Sam had ever really seen someone commune with nature quite so intimately, which caused them both to stare as just about every duck in the little community made their way to Angela's hand but no closer than a couple of feet to anyone else.  
  
"I'm boring enough that they trust me," Angela joked. Tony wrapped his arm around her waist and said "No, you're like Snow White—you're just so beautiful and wonderful that they can see it and they know they can trust you," he clarified. Angela blushed but tried not to appear too shaken.  
  
Jonathon made an 'ew' face to express his distaste for the mushiness of the conversation which caused Sam and Tony to laugh, and Angela to blush even further.  
  
It wasn't long before the kids got bored of standing still, so they had made a mad dash for the jungle gym. Poor Jonathon lacked coordination and ability, but that didn't stop him from trying to do things, and when he hit major roadblocks, Tony helped him out, making a mental note to do some 'basic training' with him in the future.  
  
Racing about the park, Angela laughed when the kids insisted they come up with a new activity and cringed when they mentioned Tag.  
  
Sam and Jonathon stubbornly held their united front which in turn caused Angela to be out of breath at least a dozen times—no matter how fit she was, she was not prepared for quite that much chasing.  
  
Every so often through out the game, it would be Tony who was it, and for variety he would take his chances chasing Angela. At first she resisted, trying (for the sake of the game of course) to get as far away from him as possible, but once she realized there was no winning anyway, she let him catch her, often going down with a battle, and dropping to the ground at the last minute, ending up in a heap on the grass. It wasn't the most elegant looking way of playing Tag, but it was more fun.  
  
When Angela was it, she'd chase Sam until it became evident she wouldn't be able to catch the girl and then change direction and grab Jonathon. It was the perfect plan—until he took to holding on to Tony's back and being carried around.  
  
Leaving the park the kids were happily marching along, raving about how they had managed to beat Angela who was good at just about everything it seemed. The back and forth banter amused Tony, who thought it was almost eerie how much they sounded like siblings.  
  
"You guys cheated," Angela said in her whiniest tone. It had been the most fun she'd had in ages, she realized, so there wasn't much to complain about, but she did lose. And her favorite jeans had grass stains she'd now have to ask Tony how to remove.  
  
"We didn't cheat," Jonathon said. "We just...played as a team."  
  
"Yeah!" Tony and Sam said simultaneously.  
  
"Against me," Angela pointed out.  
  
"Small detail," Tony answered sweetly, taking her hand on the walk back to the Jag.  
  
"So where do you want to go for dinner?"  
  
"Eh oh, out? No way, I'll make dinner at home," Tony said. "We don't need to go to restaurant and spend money when I can make us a perfectly good dinner at the house."  
  
Smiling, Angela just squeezed his hand. "If you insist."  
  
**  
  
"You kids getting ready for bed now," Angela asked, watching as Jonathon yawned for the third time in as many minutes. Sam seemed to be fighting it a little more diligently, but considering the fact that her eyes were barely open, she wouldn't be long to bed.  
  
"I want to watch the rest of the movie," Jonathon argued.  
  
"Hey, buddy, we have a long day tomorrow. You sure you wanna stay up?" It was Tony's pathetic attempt at getting the kid to bed sooner rather than later.  
  
"Actually, if it's ok with you Tony, I thought we might skip church tomorrow. It's been a long day today, and we're probably all going to want to sleep in tomorrow, don't you think?" Angela had contemplated it since that afternoon on the couch, and it seemed like a good enough excuse. They had a busy weekend and deserved a bit of a break.  
  
At first his expression was more one of shock, probably because he had never expected her to cancel their Sunday outing to the church, but then it struck him what she was doing. She was setting the scene for them to have their night, and buying them extra time. She really was a genius.  
  
"Ok, but we can't play hooky next time, k?" Tony looked at the kids who were pretty excited at the prospect of not going to church for one week. Sometimes it seemed that religion was lost on kids, he thought, but at least this time it worked to his advantage.  
  
"If were not going to church in the morning, can we stay up and watch another movie?" Sam pulled her knees up under her chin and gave Angela the most pathetic looking brown eyed gaze she had ever seen.  
  
"Oh, alright," Angela said, mentally kicking herself. Oh to be young again, she thought, wondering how it was possible that the kids still had any life left in them at all. She was fading herself, despite the two cups of coffee she'd had with dinner and ice cream.  
  
Tony gave her the same brown eyes after she had broken down and said yes, making her feel worse, but it was too late. She shrugged her shoulders and hoped that the kids would be more tired than they thought.  
  
"You guys set up the movie, and I'm going to go get more popcorn," Tony decided. There weren't many other choices, and it was hardly like sitting up with the kids was a punishment; it just wasn't what they had planned for their night.  
  
14***  
  
Jonathon had long been asleep, barely making it through the opening credits of the second movie and dozing off beside his bowl of popcorn he insisted on having to himself. Angela tried not to laugh, and when there was little success she buried her head in Tony's shoulder. She didn't want to wake her son, nor did she want to embarrass him.  
  
"I'll take 'im to bed," Tony said, "'cause all your laughin' is gonna wake 'im up." Moving the popcorn bowl to the table, he gingerly picked Jonathon up and disappeared up the stairs.  
  
"Kids," Sam said, her eyelids so heavy she might as have led anchors on them.  
  
"Oh yeah," Angela agreed. "So silly."  
  
It seemed perfectly natural that Sam made her way up to the couch and snuggled in with Angela.  
  
By the time he returned, Sam had fallen asleep leaning on Angela and both seemed pretty comfortable—Angela's arm wrapped behind the girl and Sam's head resting against Angela's chest.  
  
It was a sight for sore eyes, seeing his daughter curled against the woman he loved. No matter how much he loved some one, Sam had to love them just as much, he realized, because otherwise it just wouldn't work. But Sam loved Angela, it was clear, and Angela loved Sam. It seemed like the pieces were falling perfectly in to place.  
  
After another half hour Tony decided it was safe to move Sam. He knew that if he moved her too soon, she'd wake up and be awake for a while, while if he waited for her to be in a deeper sleep he stood a chance of things working out in his favour and she'd sleep through being put to bed.  
  
"I'll take her upstairs to the room, if you want to just turn things off down here and meet me up stairs?"  
  
Angela nodded, and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Sam's head. "Night sweetheart," she whispered before Tony hoisted the small sleeping form off of the couch.  
  
**  
  
As Angela flossed her teeth, she smiled at the memories of the day. It was like they truly were a family, even though they weren't maybe as traditional as some people would have liked. The family they had 'built' so far definitely appealed to her, however.  
  
When she thought back over their evening, she realized it wasn't that much different to when she had Michael in her life, save for the fact it was better, by far. Tony was attentive and caring, he paid attention to the kids, and he definitely paid attention to her.  
  
That afternoon on the couch had been a very exciting time for her—the thrill of being loved and wanted so much was a new kind of sentiment. Michael had been a very sexual being (perhaps thanks to his years spent watching the mating habits of various beasts) but not a very emotional one. Angela was (at least she liked to think) a little more warm blooded than her ex-husband's average love. Tony brought out the emotional being in her and then magnified it by his mere presence. He was just that kind of guy.  
  
Tony was different. In a good way, of course, but he was certainly different.  
  
Brushing her teeth, Angela looked in the mirror. This was not her sexiest night by any means. She was tired and stiff from having been chasing the kids all day. She also looked like she had been through the ringer at work all week thanks to the once exceptionally well covered bags under her eyes which were now much more prominent. She hated taking off her make up before going to bed with Tony, but only because it was so strategic in the way it hid her flaws, and softened the things she liked less. She wanted him to see her like that instead of how she was that moment—tired and obviously not twenty any more.  
  
Then again, when she was twenty she weighed in at nearly sixty-five pounds heavier. He probably wouldn't have much liked her like that either.  
  
Somewhere in between there had to be a happy medium, she thought, although she wouldn't hedge her bets.  
  
"Hey Angela, did you fall asleep in there," he called through the door. She disappeared in there not that long after he went to tuck Sam in, he thought, and she usually was a pretty fast at getting ready.  
  
"I'll be out in a minute—just taking off my makeup," she called back, although the urge to put more on instead of take it off was moderately overwhelming.  
  
When she made her way into the room, she was happy to see he had tucked him self all comfortably into bed, and was reading something. He looked so natural there and very much so as if he belonged there and wanted to be there.  
  
"Good book?"  
  
"Your diary?"  
  
Angela looked at him, befuddled.  
  
"It's about some handsome dark haired guy who meets some beautiful leggy blonde, and they fall in love," Tony clarified.  
  
She hurled herself onto the bed to get a closer look at what he was reading. "Ah," she said, suddenly a burst of understanding.  
  
"Ah, what?"  
  
"You found one of mother's romance novels—every time she comes over she hides one somewhere in here and jokes about how there's got to be 'some action' in this room. Very funny, I know." Angela giggled. "I have the strangest mother."  
  
"She's amazin'—not so strange. And funny." Tony put the book down. "But now I have my own leggy beautiful blonde here, so I can put that away."  
  
She blushed, and cursed herself for being so juvenile—she knew that she really was a pushover for him.  
  
"You're somethin' else, ya know that?"  
  
"Something good," she asked, fairly sure of his answer.  
  
"Something amazin'."  
  
Angela crawled under the covers and laughed. "So much for our romantic night," she grumbled.  
  
"Well, the park was real fun though, and the kids seemed to enjoy the movies tonight—and they're real happy that they don't have to get up in the mornin' for church."  
  
"It was really fun, that I don't deny. But I'm pretty sure we would have had some fun of our own, you know." Angela curled against him, her hand resting on his chest, her head on his shoulder, feeling lovely and warm and content.  
  
Tony didn't want to tell her that he still had enough 'energy' to make their night work. She obviously was exhausted, and from the way she'd been hobbling around for the last part of the night, he figured she was also in some degree of pain.  
  
"We should really get some rest," he said sweetly. "God knows what the kids will want to do tomorrow. We might need to have some sort of plan to sedate them."  
  
Angela giggled at the image of them trying to sedate the kids—the kids were fast and smart and would certainly win.  
  
"I love you," he whispered, pulling her nearer.  
  
"I love you too," she said quietly, already starting to drift.  
  
15***  
  
"Owww, owww, owww, owwww...." Angela bit her lip. When she first woke up, she hadn't been alert enough to realize that he was laying beside her; after years of sleeping alone, it wasn't her first thought when she woke up—especially when she was in pain. She didn't want to wake Tony up but at the same time she felt a huge cramp really high in her leg. Or, in actuality, the cramp wasn't so much in her leg as it was through her groin area.  
  
Whatever she had done yesterday, she certainly had pulled something and it was definitely something that was very sensitive now, because whatever movement she had made in her sleep was enough to send chills through her and intense pain.  
  
Angela managed to roll on to her side, away from Tony, her hand dipping beneath the covers to apply pressure to the spot at the top and inside of her thigh.  
  
"Eh oh, where ya goin'? It's only eight." He mumbled groggily as he rolled over in search of her.  
  
"Leg cramp," Angela whispered, hoping he was still asleep. She'd feel horrible for waking him.  
  
Opening his eyes, he gently nudged her onto her back. "Bad?"  
  
Angela sort of shrugged it off. "I don't know what I pulled or when but it hurts a bit."  
  
"I could massage it for you—see if that helps." Now seeming more alert, Tony's eyes were warm and comforting and for a fleeting moment Angela felt a little better.  
  
"My leg?"  
  
"And anything else you want done," he said sweetly, wiping the sleep from his eyes.  
  
Angela gave him that 'I can't believe you said that' look.  
  
Sitting up, he pulled the sheets down. "I'm not sayin strip or anythin', I'm just saying I can give you a massage to try and work out the kinks—I'm good at 'em now," Tony added. He didn't want to say since his wife had gotten sick he had to do it just about every couple of hours because her body had been so stiff and painful. That was a memory better left buried and definitely not one that belonged in the bed of his 'girlfriend'.  
  
"You're full of surprises, ya know that?"  
  
"Yep," he said, as he lifted her foot into his hands and began to massage her heel in long slow strokes. "Because I like to keep ya guessin'," he added. "It's part of my charm."  
  
Angela smiled. "Among other things," she laughed as his fingers trailed over the ball of her foot and her toes.  
  
As he worked his way over her ankle and to her calf, he wondered how long he could go on being able to touch her and sleep beside her without combining the two actions.  
  
"You have great hands," Angela sighed, feeling some of the stress relieved, even if the pain she was experiencing was still there in near full force.  
  
Tony laughed. "Attractive thirty-something man with great hands and a sense of humour—great personal ad. I might need to remember that," he teased.  
  
"Hey, you're mine, so no; there won't be any such ad."  
  
As his hand slipped behind her knee she giggled, tickled by his fingers on the back of her leg. "Ticklish, huh?" He watched her expression, warmed by the genuine smile she wore.  
  
Angela tried not to answer, the truth being very obvious to both of them. It was best he not know too many of her 'secrets', she thought.  
  
"I'll need to remember that. It could come in handy," he said, making a mental note. He had been thankful for her giggle, which had stopped him from getting too caught up in everything. He had been quite engrossed by the silky-softness of her leg that seemed to go on forever that he had almost forgot that this was for medicinal purposes and not sexual. The last thing he wanted to do was something he might regret. Things were going so well.  
  
When he made his way to her thigh finally, Angela wondered if she should tell him how pointless his efforts were. She knew exactly where the knot was, and she was fairly certain that no matter how brave he was, he wouldn't be massaging her quite that thoroughly. Instead, though, she realized how great it was to have someone lavish attention on her quite so thoroughly, and she decided to enjoy it. The pain was definitely better than it was, mostly due to the time that had lapsed, and it seemed only fair that they enjoy their morning.  
  
"Onwards and upwards," Tony said, his eyes meeting hers when his fingers first touched her thigh, the long strokes he made over her skin slow and warming.  
  
"Indeed," Angela agreed, closing her eyes and hoping she wasn't blushing too furiously crimson.  
  
16***  
  
"How was your weekend," Mona asked, noticing her daughter was limping around the living room.  
  
"Good," she said, trying to find her briefcase.  
  
"Then why are you crawling about like an injured animal?" Mona wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.  
  
"Mother!"  
  
"Well?"  
  
"We took the kids to the park and we played Tag. And I think I must have pulled something. Tony tried to massage it out, but apparently it revolted—it'll have to work its own way out.  
  
Mona laughed. "Are you trying to tell me you pulled a muscle chasing children all weekend and not doing anything fun?"  
  
"That's exactly what I'm telling you, minus the not doing anything fun—we had a great time at the park."  
  
The muffled snicker which was characteristically Mona didn't surprise Angela. "One day, my dear, you will have to have sex with him. And when that day comes, I'd advise you not to tell him you pulled a muscle no matter how strenuous the activity."  
  
She wanted to act surprised at her mother's implication, but it was so typically Mona. "If that...no, when that day comes, I'd rather not think about it as potentially injury invoking," Angela clarified, "and that day won't come as long as we have children to exhaust before we can get them to an early bedtime."  
  
It was that look; that smile of understanding that made Angela both feel somewhat relieved and more than a little horrified. There was a story coming, she knew it, and it could go either way. She may or may not like it.  
  
"When you were little, you used to like to sleep in with your father and me," Mona began, knowing it would be as much as mortifying for her to hear this. "You always had nightmares, and you always wanted to be held, and that's ok because kids are like that, but dear God Angela, by the time you were five there was no end in sight! You went to sleep every night in your own bed and within hours you'd have worked your way into ours." Mona laughed at the memory, pleased that there were still a few things Angela didn't know about her youth.  
  
"Does this have any bearing on me and Tony?"  
  
"Just you wait." There it was—that totally incomprehensible Mona confidence that Angela could only dream of having. In line at the gene pool, Angela certainly missed that one. "There were so many nights your dad and I let things get hot and heavy, only to be unceremoniously interrupted by..." she made a mock trumpet sound as if in a courtyard before a King. "By a much younger you."  
  
The look of mortification on Angela's face was enough to make Mona laugh. "Don't you give me that look young lady. The engine was getting all warmed up only to be turned off before the race. Do you know how many nights that happened," she asked.  
  
"Do you have a point or are you just trying to emotionally scar me?"  
  
"My point is, your father got to the point where he couldn't... So, I took matters into my own hands..."  
  
"MOTHER!"  
  
"No, Angela, I called your grandmother and I asked her to take you for a week. Just to give us a rest, and let us work on our relationship. Your dad took a week vacation from the bank and we just spent one glorious week in bed." After a typical 'Mona' pause, she smiled before adding, "I lost seven pounds that week."  
  
"So the moral of the story is to unload your children so you can have gratuitous amounts of sex," Angela asked, first sarcastically until she realized, that was indeed part of what her mother was saying.  
  
"And for my part, I'll cover for you and Tony. I'll take the kids somewhere for a few days. Let's say...three or four days camping? A long weekend? Or a long weekend doing something where I don't know anyone so that they don't hear me being called grandma. Either way, an extended weekend. Yours at no cost."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Whenever you think you're ready to need that amount of free time to be spent in bed," Mona supplied.  
  
"Soon," Angela nearly begged. She and Tony had been ready the weekend before only to be hindered by commitments, but soon would be a pleasant break, and a nice opportunity.  
  
"You talk to Tony and I'll make the plans for me and the kids."  
  
"Actually, I'll talk to Sam about what she'd like to do for four days and we'll surprise Tony," Angela decided, wanting the element of surprise. "Will next weekend work for you?"  
  
"Well, there will be several disappointed suitors, but you need sex more than I do, so I'll make that sacrifice for you...this time," Mona grinned.  
  
"Thank you, I think."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
"I'll talk Tony and Sam into coming in on Thursday night, and then you can take off with the kids Friday morning...I'll book us out of the office for the weekend. A wedding in Miami," she asked.  
  
"Angela!"  
  
"What?" She was genuinely confused. Her mother may have been helpful, but she was confusing the hell out of her now.  
  
"I said sleep with him, not marry him."  
  
Angela laughed, realizing how it sounded. "No, that was my excuse. But funny you should mention that—you're the second person this week to bring it up."  
  
"Who was the first?"  
  
"Sam."  
  
"Ah, thick as thieves, are we?"  
  
"She's great."  
  
"She is," Mona agreed.  
  
"Thank you," Angela said, after a long silence. "I really do appreciate you taking the kids."  
  
"I'd say anytime, but this is pretty much a one shot deal, so instead we'll say...you're welcome?"  
  
"You know, no matter what you say, you're a pretty nice person. And pretty generous," Angela pointed out.  
  
"Don't let it get around," Mona nearly whispered. "Now let me know what I'm doing so I can prepare. This will take some emotional preparation."  
  
"I'll call you tonight," Angela said. "Thank you again."  
  
"You're welcome, again. And I want all the juicy details."  
  
17***  
  
"When you said we'd be making a day trip, I thought you meant somewhere local," Tony said, staring out the window at the miles of green that seemed to surround them.  
  
"I did," Angela said softly, turning the dial on the radio, hoping she could find a decent station so far into the country.  
  
"Then why did the last sign say 'Vermont'?" Tony caught her hand while she was playing with the dial and wrapped it in his. "Where are we going?"  
  
Angela's breath caught in her throat. How did he always manage to catch her like that?  
  
"Somewhere," she managed, hoping he'd relent before she'd have to tell him where exactly.  
  
"Well I was hoping that much, but..." Tony sighed. "Never mind, I trust you. Just tell me when we're wherever somewhere is," he asked sweetly before gently squeezing her hand.  
  
"You trust me?" Angela's voice was small. She couldn't understand why she was so nervous—well, then again she could, but she didn't want to necessarily think about being that nervous. They were ready to do it just weekends before, so why should anything have changed?  
  
"Of course I do! Eh oh, oh eh, I love you, which means I trust you—I couldn't love someone I didn't trust. It wouldn't work!"  
  
"You're right, of course," Angela said, wondering why she had been surprised when he said he trusted her.  
  
"You trust me, right?"  
  
"Yes!" Her response was a little more abrupt than she would have liked but then again it was just so obvious—at least, she hoped it was. "I love you, and I trust you."  
  
"Then why'd you ask?" He looked somewhat wounded that they'd have to have that conversation about trust—that she could ever doubt that he trusted her was a little surprising to him, but then again she hadn't had the best relationships in the past so maybe trust featured a little differently.  
  
"I guess..." Angela chewed her lower lip and wondered how she had let herself get so flustered. Pulling over the car, she looked around and saw nothing but green for miles. There was nothing around them except for trees and grass, as well as bushes and then miles of highway.  
  
"Are you okay?" Taking his seatbelt off, Tony twisted around in his seat.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I just feel like I shouldn't have made a decision for us, when...well, I mean, for you and me because that's not the kind of relationship we have." Angela looked at him nervously.  
  
"You made a decision for us?" He looked at her curiously.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And what was that decision?"  
  
"This weekend...I decided we should go away; that even though I love the kids, I really really want to spend time with you. Alone. Mother said she'd take the kids and Sam said she had wanted to do some things in Connecticut this weekend with that girl Bonnie she met last week at the club, so I decided they could stay at the house and we could go away. But we don't usually make decisions for each other, and I guess now I'm wondering if I should have." Angela looked at him with large sad eyes, and he could tell that she was feeling pretty emotional about the entire thing.  
  
"You know what I think? I think it was a great decision, and I'm glad you made it," he said honestly. "I think that we haven't had enough time just the two of us, and that I'm in love with the most beautiful, thoughtful, amazin' woman in the world."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah." He squeezed her hand gently. "So, where's this place we're goin'?"  
  
"The summer house," Angela replied simply. "It's only about another half hour away."  
  
"You never said anything about a summer place," Tony said curiously, wondering what other interesting things she might have to tell him.  
  
"Mother and daddy bought it right before he died, and then she couldn't go there any more, so we used to rent it out. After Michael and I broke up, I asked if I could buy it from her. Mother said she'd planned on giving it to me someday, so why not sooner rather than later." Angela shrugged, as if almost saying 'everyone has a summer house.'  
  
"Why didn't we go before?"  
  
Angela tried to think of an appropriate response, but really all she could come up with was 'we really didn't have time' which she knew he wouldn't buy. "I don't know," she lied.  
  
"Oh. Well, then, we should get back on the road then, shouldn't we? There's a perfectly good day waitin' for us there."  
  
Angela forced a smile, realizing the knots in the pit of her stomach were tightening, and then turned the ignition key.  
  
18***  
  
The arrival at the house had been somewhat of a hastened one as the sky seemed to open up just as they were pulling into the driveway. It had started miles before, they realized after the fact, with a few large water droplets that were oversized and non-threatening, but by the time Angela stopped the car, it was an all out down-pour.  
  
"If we make a run for the house, I can come out later and grab the stuff," Tony offered.  
  
"We could sit in here and wait for it to stop," Angela said, obviously not wanting to get soaked.  
  
"We might be waitin' a while," he pointed out.  
  
"It might stop soon?"  
  
Tony looked at her, his expression conveying the confusion and concern he was feeling. Why was she insisting on waiting in the car?  
  
"What's up, Ang? Since when were you scared of a little rain?"  
  
"I'm not scared of rain," Angela said indignantly.  
  
"Then, what are you scared of?"  
  
"Spiders," she said honestly, avoiding the subject.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And failure."  
  
"So what about this house has you thinkin' 'bout spiders and failure?"  
  
"The last time I was here I had just broken up with Michael—I came up here for a weekend escape."  
  
"And you saw a big crawly black spider?" His fingers formed the 'itsy bitsy spider' from the song he had sung to Sam all too many times in her childhood and lightly grazed the formation over her arm.  
  
"Not funny," she replied, her glare definitely indicative of the way she was feeling.  
  
"Sorry..." He tried to stiffen up a bit, obviously she was having a serious regret or something about the trip, and he needed to know what because the next thing he'd have to do would be to somehow fix it.  
  
"I just... I don't feel like running in to anything."  
  
"Keep your eyes open, I'll be right beside you and I'll make sure nothin' bad happens." Tony wondered how generations of men had married generations of women when they had all been so complicated. Unless it was just getting harder, he thought, at which point the human race didn't stand a chance.  
  
"I meant in life, not in the driveway." Angela half-laughed at his misunderstanding. It was funny.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"When I came here last time I swore never to let anyone hurt me like he hurt me again. And I drank a couple bottles of wine and sat on the veranda staring out into the wonderful little lake and I cried." Staring at the enormous droplets on the windshield, Angela marveled at how she could barely see the house in front of them. Things just had a way of going unexpectedly, as she had learned a long time ago. She just wished it hadn't happened on her romantic weekend away.  
  
"I'm not going to hurt you—I promise. I love you, Ang, and I thought you knew that." His eyes searched her face for some semblance of understanding.  
  
"I do. I know that. But Michael thought he loved me too...and so sometimes I feel more insecure about us than I want to. But it's not because of you—I know it's all about me. I'm being silly. But I just thought that things were different now. I thought I could come back here and it wouldn't be the end of the world."  
  
"We can go somewhere else," Tony said sweetly. "I know of a crowded little one bedroom in Brooklyn where there's nothing to bother you except for sirens, screaming and noisy neighbors."  
  
She smiled at him, and how he described Brooklyn—even something as obviously not her 'style' as a crowded one bedroom in a noisy city building seemed appealing...but she could imagine making it work, if that's what it would take to make him totally happy.  
  
Was she crazy? She was thinking about what it would be like to live in Manhattan, or Brooklyn, or ... well, anywhere, as long as it was with him. Could she actually live in the city again?  
  
The answer, which surprised her, was a resounding yes. She could probably survive just about anything as long as he was there to keep her sane.  
  
"Let's go inside," Angela said, in a moment of absolute clarity.  
  
"I thought..." He was more confused than ever. It didn't seem like there was any way of understanding her, of that much he was certain.  
  
"Yes, but I realized something, and now I want to go inside." Angela hoped he'd understand that she wasn't always this indecisive—in deed, sometimes she could be quite rational and that rationality would often come quite reasonably and quickly.  
  
"Are you ok? Really, honestly, Ang, we could just turn around and drive back to Connecticut. It's okay, you know." He watched her expression, hoping that somewhere along the way there'd be a hint as to what was actually going on.  
  
"Let's go," Angela said, opening her door to the car and getting out. But she didn't run, instead standing there for a moment getting absolutely soaking wet, and enjoying the feel of the cool rain.  
  
Tony stared at her in awe, soaking wet and looking absolutely beautiful, and wondered if he'd ever figure her out, or if that would be too much for him to handle.  
  
Starting her dash towards the door, Angela didn't look back, fairly certain that he would be close behind her. That was what she had with Tony that she had never had with Michael—she knew that where ever she went, he'd go, and vice versa because they loved each other enough to crave each other's company.  
  
At the door, Angela stopped, pressed her back against the surface and watched him appear in front of her within a moment. Fingering the buttons on her blouse, Angela smiled seductively at him. "Last one undressed has to bring the stuff in from the car later," she said, before pressing her lips against his firmly, and then turning to unlock the door.  
  
19***  
  
"Don't forget the bags in the back seat," Angela called after him, comfortable against the pillows of the bed. "Oh, and my purse...I think it's under the front passenger seat, but you'll have to dig," she said, her voice teasing him.  
  
She had fully expected to win the undressing competition; she just hadn't expected to win it with quite so much of a lead. Once she had begun to disrobe, Tony was otherwise distracted and unable to remove his eyes from her.  
  
Angela had blushed under his watchful eyes, but then felt warmed by how beautiful he made her feel. There was no more uncertainty left for her—they were meant to be together, regardless of circumstance. She just had to make things work whenever an obstacle presented itself, she thought.  
  
Everything about the day since they had gone into the house had been amazing. He was attentive and incredible, and he was gentle and fascinating. She couldn't tell what she had been more consumed by: his amazing body or the fact that he was unparalleled by any lover she had ever had. Either way, Angela realized, she had the best part of the deal, because she had Tony and she was not about to let go for anything. Except for some food from the cooler, of course, which had been left in the trunk.  
  
"Eh oh, I ain't gonna forget," he called back in mock frustration. "I lost, fair and square, so I gotta get it, but next time...next time I won't go so easy on ya," he remarked, pulling his shirt over his head.  
  
"Promise?" Angela's fingers played with the top of the sheet which was resting against her bare chest.  
  
Tony rolled his eyes, realizing what she had been alluding to before he broke out into a wide smile. He had never had such an amazing afternoon in bed, and it wasn't just the love making as much as it was the joy of the company and the amazing woman he had held. "You don't play fair," he pointed out.  
  
"Are you launching a formal complaint?" Tugging the sheet up higher, Angela grinned at his playful expression. Tony made her feel young again, and not in that young and useless way where love seemed to be everything that would be too unattainable but in that way where she had the blissful feeling that it was forever with him, and she could imagine them getting old together.  
  
He shook his head. "I had best go get that food before I get myself in trouble," Tony said sweetly. "I'd hate to upset the champion undresser."  
  
Angela giggled sweetly, impressed by his good-natured ribbing and the way everything seemed to be comfortable between them.  
  
Disappearing out the bedroom door and down the stairs towards the front entrance, Tony felt like he was walking on clouds—Angela was the most amazing, beautiful woman and the most receptive lover he had ever had. And her clothes were all strewn through out the front hall and the steps to prove it. It was like they were two halves of a whole finally united, and as lame as he felt thinking that way, it was like it sealed the deal. He and Angela were meant to be together.  
  
Opening the trunk of the car, he looked around for the rainbow he was certain would have to be present after that heavy downpour. It would match the cliché aspects of their day thus far, but when he didn't see one, he just shrugged it off. They were doing things their way, and they were happy doing it their way, to hell with the world around them.  
  
"Did you get lost? Or are you just taking your time," Angela asked, appearing in the doorway with the sheet from the bed wrapped around her in a semi-toga state.  
  
His jaw dropped; she was breathtaking.  
  
"Your purse took me just about forever to find," he commented, gesturing towards the bag over his shoulder.  
  
"Taupe is your color," she teased.  
  
"Green is yours," he said, referring to the sheet around her. When she blushed, he smiled innocently at her, happy they were so comfortable.  
  
Reaching into the trunk, he pulled out a cooler and balanced some bags on top of it, appraising what was left to be taken in, and deciding it would be one more trip.  
  
Carrying the pile up to the house, he placed them just inside the door. "If I leave this here, do you think you might be able to help me to the kitchen with them?"  
  
"I'm suddenly not very hungry," she said seductively, walking back up the stairs, a pronounced sway in her hips that had him mesmerized. "But you'd better get most of the stuff in here—who knows when we'll have a chance to bring the rest in."  
  
Tony felt his breath hitch in his throat. "I'll be right in," he called, making a dash for the car. He'd kept her waiting once, and he was not about to do it again.  
  
20***  
  
Bundling up, Angela and Tony made their way out for a late evening walk. The sun had set hours before, but it was the perfect opportunity for them to just stroll peacefully, listening to the last sounds of summer, which were soon to fade into the cold backdrop of autumn.  
  
"I was thinking about that conversation we had, about you looking for a new place," Angela began, hoping this was the right time.  
  
"Oh yeah? Have you decided to help me hunt after all? 'Cause I definitely could use a hand findin' something—everything I've seen so far has been the wrong kind of place for Sam." Squeezing her hand in his, Tony thought about how perfect it was to be there with her, enjoying a romantic weekend away.  
  
"Well, I think I found the perfect place," she said thoughtfully. "Rent's reasonable; people are nice, good schools, and great amenities."  
  
"Ok, but what kind of reasonable? Mine or yours? 'Cause you and I have different ideas."  
  
"I think it appeals to both our senses of reasonable," she clarified.  
  
"Ok, so where is this perfect place that I can afford?  
  
"3344 Oakhills Drive, Connecticut," Angela said sweetly, stopping them from walking any further. This was a conversation meant to be had face to face, and to do that, she had to stop them.  
  
"Your house?"  
  
Angela nodded, hoping he would like the idea, or at least consider it. "It's nice, it's in a good area, Sam already likes it, and you already know your way around...All benefits to being there. And for more selfish reasons," she continued, "I don't think I want to let you go home somewhere else every night when you could come home to me, and keep me company."  
  
Tony searched her eyes, wondering if she felt like it could really work. He certainly had no doubts that they were good together. He enjoyed the time he spent with her and they had talked about it. "Do you think you'd mind spending all that time with me? And living with a mail clerk? That'd really shake up the neighbourhood."  
  
Angela shrugged. "I don't care about the neighbourhood. And besides, it's not as discreet as you might think; at least I'm not screwing the maid."  
  
"I imagine that would raise a few eyebrows," Tony said sweetly, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her nearer to him.  
  
"More than a few I'm sure, but you...you belong with me. I belong with you. However you want to think of it, one of us has to leave what we have right now, and considering what you want for Sam, this would be the perfect arrangement." Angela's arms found their way around his neck, holding firmly.  
  
"You'd move to Brooklyn?"  
  
"If that's what you wanted of me, as long as you understood that we'd have to have a few bedrooms available. With the frequency mother visits at, and the kids, we'd need a four bedroom somewhere."  
  
"I don't think there's a four bedroom in Brooklyn," Tony pointed out, "but I love that you'd go there."  
  
Leaning in for a kiss, Angela couldn't help but feel like everything was as much as settled. All she needed now was for him to agree to it. "So?"  
  
Tony thought about it for a moment. "You're not a woman to just live with," he said finally, watching her expression fall.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"But it's not what you're thinkin'. You're not the kind of woman you just live with without marrying," he clarified.  
  
She looked at him curiously, unsure of what he was really saying, but hoping that she hadn't totally misunderstood.  
  
"I love you, so much, and today has been one of the best days of my life, but I know that I love you enough not to want to just live with ya—I want us to have more." Tony looked down at his hands on her waist and thought about what he was trying to say. He was never articulate enough for his liking. "I'd like to live with you and know it's forever—that we had that commitment. And I'd want to know that we had a permanent bond, so that if things ever got bad we'd have that to remind us."  
  
Angela was awestruck. She was pretty sure this sounded remarkably like a proposal, and she had thought about them making that commitment—especially since Philly and Louise's wedding—but she just hadn't been prepared for him to talk about it quite yet.  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"Would you say yes?"  
  
Angela thought for a moment, catching herself chewing on her bottom lip. She did not want him to think that she was considering saying no because she wasn't. It was a matter of considering what they had left to do before they could reach that stage in their relationship.  
  
"Eh oh, don't feel like you hafta answer," he said quickly. "I just thought I should let you know how I feel." Tony released his grip on her and began to walk again, feeling his heart break.  
  
"Once I'm divorced, my answer would be different," she said, "but for right now, I don't have any choice but say no."  
  
Tony turned back and looked at her. "Michael still hasn't signed the papers," Tony asked, momentarily distracted from his own pain.  
  
"No. The lawyer says they're currently undeliverable because he's in the middle of some jungle somewhere."  
  
"And has been for the past two years," Tony clarified. "And they still haven't given them to him?"  
  
"The lawyer says that he can't have the papers delivered until National Geographic releases his whereabouts, and they refuse to. They say it's all about protecting their project."  
  
"What about you? You're supposed to stay married to that creep until their documentary is done?"  
  
"From the sounds of it," she replied. Narrowing the distance between them, she slid her hand into his. "Once I'm divorced it'll be a different answer," she told him honestly, "but for now, I have to say no—I can't be engaged and married at the same time."  
  
Tony sighed. "This is one hell of an arrangement," he mumbled.  
  
"Well, we just have to make the most of it, right?"  
  
"I love you," he said again, realizing he had been a little too short on the entire subject. It wasn't as if Angela had requested her husband to move to the jungle and she really was doing her best to be honest with him.  
  
"I love you too," she replied. "And the minute he signs the papers and they're filed, I want you to ask me that question."  
  
Tony smiled. "The minute," he promised.  
  
"Can we go back to talking about the other arrangements," Angela asked sweetly.  
  
Tony nodded. "I guess we could live in sin for a while...give us some time to figure out what we're doin' next."  
  
"And sin is fun," Angela added. "Lots of fun."  
  
The look on her face was a cross between desire and happiness.  
  
"Definitely fun," Tony said, leaning in for another kiss. "Definitely fun."  
  
21***  
  
"Welcome home," Mona said, her feet resting on the coffee table, a book in her hands.  
  
"Hello, Mother," Angela said curiously, looking around for the kids.  
  
Tony placed Angela's bags at the foot of the steps, and searched for Sam.  
  
"Bonnie's parents took them out for dinner. So I'm sitting back with my good old friend Harlequin and enjoying the peace and quiet." Mona smiled, closing her book over. "How was your weekend?"  
  
"Really good," Angela said, before looking at Tony carefully.  
  
"Real great, thanks again, Mona."  
  
"Oh yeah? Couldn't have been that great," she teased. "You came back."  
  
"Well, the kids do require some form of adult supervision, and however lightly you might somehow fit that category, I am fairly certain you aren't a long term solution—at least, not right now," Angela said sweetly, patting her mother on the back. "I remember the parties you used to throw—you're dangerous."  
  
"Your boyfriends never used to mind!"  
  
"Because you were more run than I was!"  
  
"Ladies," Tony said, his voice betraying him and letting his laughter through. "Do I need to separate you two?"  
  
Angela slid into the spot beside her mother from her perch on the arm of the couch. "Nah, I can deal with her."  
  
Mona looked at her daughter and the goofy grin on her face, and then over to Tony who was sporting a similar grin. "So, uh, how great was the weekend?"  
  
"It was very much needed," Angela said as she tried to work out how she was going to tell her mother. She wasn't giving her all the details (and some of the girly chit-chat would have to wait for when Tony went back to Brooklyn) but they did have to tell her about their new arrangement they had planned.  
  
"Cleaned out the pipes, and dusted off the cobwebs?" Mona offered her most wicked look to the pair.  
  
"Mona!" Tony's voice was near a whine, with its indignant tone pleading with her.  
  
"I meant at the cottage—what did you think I meant?"  
  
Angela glared at her, before breaking into a smile. "Tony and I did make one decision, and since it kind of affects you, I guess we should tell you—we're planning on talking to the kids tonight."  
  
Mona gestured with her hands as if to say 'okay, spit it out'.  
  
"Tony and Sam will be moving in here at the end of next month—they're moving to Connecticut." Angela beamed as she looked up at Tony. Now that they were talking other people about their plans, it seemed so much more real (and for that she was thankful).  
  
"Wow, Angela—you must be good," was all Mona could say, earning her a solid thump in the arm and a fierce look from her daughter.  
  
"Ang and I discussed it and we decided that it would be the next step in our relationship...and we'd really appreciate it if you supported us." Tony took a seat on the other side of Mona, and hoped the woman would understand what he was trying to say—their relationship was too important for a nay- sayer so close to home. There would be, in all likelihood, many people elsewhere who wouldn't support them, but they didn't want it to start with her mother.  
  
"Supported you?" Mona threw her arms around the pair, pulling them into a bone-crushing embrace. "I've been dying for this to happen—seriously, I haven't been getting any younger waiting for you two to clue in!"  
  
"Eh oh, it ain't been that long," Tony countered.  
  
"No no, not that long at all. Just because Philly's already married Louise, and they met the same night as you two, and Louise is already pregnant... No, we've not been waiting on you at all." Mona smiled. "You may be the last to the party, but you're both forgiven because you're such a cute couple."  
  
Angela blushed, her mother's scrutiny making her feel like a kid again. And she was most definitely not a child anymore.  
  
"Anyway, we're gonna move everything over the weekends, as much as possible. I'll give my notice tomorrow and we'll be good to move for the 30th. As long as Angela doesn't get sick of us before we get here." Winking at her, she continued to blush. He loved how easily flustered she was. It was one of her many endearing qualities.  
  
"You still planning on working at Wallace and McQuade," Mona asked, wondering how well they had thought this through.  
  
"Why wouldn't I?"  
  
"Because once you move in with Angela, it's going to be a complicated arrangement—you'll be a mail clerk living with the Vice President." Mona hated to be a party-pooper, but there were some elements to this well laid plan that weren't so...well laid.  
  
"Well, it's not necessarily going to be an issue. I mean, who is going to know unless we tell them?"  
  
"So you're going to go to work separately, come home separately, eat lunch alone every day and never talk about your personal life with another coworker again?"  
  
It was like a cartoon, the light bulb of realization flicking on for both of them simultaneously.  
  
"Well, hey, I'll find another job. Maybe somethin' closer to home so I can take care of the kids and be here more. I mean, Angela can't really go get another job—she's in line for the Presidency." Toy shrugged, hoping this was a suitable solution.  
  
"I'd hate for you to give that up. It's a good start for you," Angela said, looking remorseful that they even had to discuss this when clearly it was over a month off.  
  
"Yeah, but if it's my job or you, I'll give up puttin' things in people's slots," Tony said, suddenly realizing what he said. "Don't even, Mona..."  
  
Mona smiled, waiting for Angela to clue in.  
  
"Mother," Angela said, her voice very clearly demonstrating her disapproval for her mother's thought process, even if she hadn't verbalized it.  
  
"I said nothing and I STILL get reprimanded..." Mona tried to seem concerned, even though it was all in jest. "I hope you discipline your children more leniently than you do me."  
  
"The point is," Tony said, bringing them back on track. "How hard can it be for me to find somethin' that will pay 'bout the same but nearby?"  
  
"You don't mind?" Angela's voice was small. She didn't want him to mistake her question for enthusiasm (no matter how easily she could have been accused of it).  
  
"Nah," he said with a sense of finality. "I'll get to keep things up around here. Saves you hiring another housekeeper, and it will let me work off some rent, seeing as until I have another job, I won't have tones of extra money."  
  
"Oh, you don't need to pay rent," Angela interjected.  
  
"Well, I can't live here for free," he pointed out. There was no way his macho Italian pride would allow him to live with a woman, rent free, and without contributing something or another. "So we'll agree on a price, and I'll pay you that towards food, rent, hydro, and stuff. I have some savings to use for the first little while 'til I get another job, and like I said, I'll do the extra stuff around here."  
  
"I don't know if I like you paying me for rent, I mean, it's not necessary. I want you here," she clarified.  
  
"And I know that I won't be comfortable unless I contribute. So maybe you should just understand that."  
  
"Oh, and yet another topic not discussed on your weekend love affair away from reality." Mona snickered, realizing that they really hadn't spent much time talking, and she found that amusing. She always thought her daughter thought about things too much—to a fault, certainly—but here it was, a major life changing event, and she hadn't thought about much of anything. What an intriguing change for the better.  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, we didn't work out all the details, but we know it's happenin'," Tony said defensively.  
  
"I understand what Tony's saying. And I realize that it's unfair of me to tell Tony not to pay anything when I know that if the tables were turned I'd want to contribute as well..."  
  
Oh yeah, Mona thought, they really were perfect for one another. When the chips were down they'd step up to the bat and bail each other out, even if it meant a little extra labour on their parts.  
  
"You kids have all the details worked out, so great. You don't need me anymore." Standing, Mona made her way to the kitchen door. "Let me know when the kids get home. I'd like to see how you two get around them."  
  
22***  
  
The next month had been a flurry of activity trying to get things moved around. Angela had made a point of cleaning out the sewing room so that Sam could sleep somewhere where she wouldn't be surrounded by needles and thread (as much as she had joked that was every little girl's dream) and she even had made sure to get the girl's opinion as to what kind of bed she'd want.  
  
Cleaning out her closets had been another tricky thing, when she realized it had been an eternity since she had shared that space with someone else. To make enough room for all of his things, she was probably going to have to use the other bedroom's closet for her non-seasonal wardrobe, and be more aware of what she was and wasn't wearing.  
  
On the weekend before everyone was set to do the big 'move', was their chance to put all of the stuff already at the house in order. They'd agreed to paint Sam's room together, and then work on cleaning up the attic so that Tony would have space for whatever things of his they didn't necessarily need.  
  
"I thought you said there was a tonne of space up here," Tony asked, as he made his way into the attic, and wondered how a woman with so much stuff in her house could have so much stuff in her attic. Eventually she'd have to run out of things to hold on to, wouldn't she?  
  
"There is, isn't there?" Angela followed behind, enjoying the view and thinking how great it would be to have him around all the time and how soon it would all be a reality.  
  
"When was the last time you came up here?"  
  
"When I put away Michael's stuff. Wait, no I didn't come up here then. I sent up Eunice."  
  
Tony turned back and gave her a look, as if to ask who?  
  
"Housekeeper number four."  
  
"How you so hard on 'em?"  
  
"I uh, have a messy attic?" Angela laughed. "I think Jonathon's pretty hard on them with all the creepy crawlies, and I'm never home so they get ample time with him."  
  
Tony shrugged, trying to decide where he should look first. It was cluttered and disorganized, and more than anything it was a lot of useless space. "Ok, this is going to take major reorganization, so I say we put the first coat of paint on Sam's room, and then we come up here and sort for a while, and then we'll do the second coat of paint, and finish up here."  
  
"Ok," Angela said in agreement, having promised to be perfectly agreeable during the renovations—this was his department, for sure, more so than hers. Until the efforts turned from space to colour, she was listening happily to him.  
  
**  
  
"Alright, so you're tellin' me you've never painted before?"  
  
"I always pay someone to do it. Or call the friendliest man I know at the time," Angela said sweetly, batting her eyelashes.  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, from now on if you need something lifted, opened, or painted, you call me, okay?" Tony looked at her sternly.  
  
She was quite fond of his possessiveness. It made her feel loved and wanted, as well as appreciated and adored; it was this amazing way of making her feel like the only person left in the world. "Okay," she smiled, leaning in before whispering "remind me to take you up on that later."  
  
He flushed at the statement, surprised by her bluntness, but also pleased that they had such a great (and healthy) relationship.  
  
"So you paint that wall, I'll paint this one, and Sam said she and Jonathon would do the baseboards I put out back in the driveway. So get started."  
  
Angela rolled the long roller in the paint tray and laughed as it absorbed the colour. "It looks funny," she said, hoping he wouldn't tease her too much for finding a simple act such as painting so amusing.  
  
"Just paint," Tony said, trying to hide his amusement at the situation.  
  
"Fine," she said, trying to feign hurt feelings.  
  
As they started rolling the colour onto the wall, Angela thought about how natural it felt to be doing these little 'renovations' with Tony. He made it seem like the logical thing to do—of course they'd paint the room themselves; of course they'd clean out the attic. How else was it supposed to get done?  
  
"You're strokes aren't long enough," Tony observed, hoping she didn't find him condescending. He just wanted to make sure that she learned how to do it correctly. There would be times down the road when he would hope they'd redecorate other parts of the house, and it would be easier if she learned how to do it all now.  
  
"Oh yeah? Well, no one's ever complained before." Turning to face him, she smiled sweetly, hoping he caught the double entendre she so blatantly put out there.  
  
"Eh oh, I'm pointin' out, not complaining," he countered, putting down his roller and taking a spot beside her. "Here, lemme help you get started."  
  
Taking her body and placing it flush to his, her back to his chest, Tony placed the roller in Angela's hand and wrapped his one arm around her waist.  
  
"You know, this doesn't feel like work," she pointed out, her voice low.  
  
He was having a hard enough time concentrating on the task at hand without her commentary. "Well, it is, so keep your mind out of the gutter." Stretching out her arm, he helped her roll on a long line of paint. "Just keep doin' that, and you'll be done in no time," he assured her, meanwhile backing away from her and returning to his wall.  
  
"I definitely think painting was intended to be a doubles sport," she pointed out, as she went about the next expanse of wall.  
  
"If it was, we'd never get finished," Tony grumbled, thinking about how much he loved doing things like that with her. She made it interesting—it was nice to see that as perfect as she was, there were a few things he did better that he could teach her.  
  
"I don't think we'd never get finished. Eventually we would feel motivated. But it would take longer, I give you that." Twisting around, Angela quickly ran the paint roller down Tony's back, leaving a trail of pink paint down his back and over his butt.  
  
"Oh, you did not just paint me," he said, turning around and trying to peer over his shoulder. In deed there was a strip of pink.  
  
"Oh, no, I did," Angela said with the most innocent expression on her face. "And what do you plan on doing about it?" She smiled sweetly and offered him a 'devil may dare' look.  
  
"Ya know, it'd be pretty immature of me to do it to you just for revenge. That's no way to act because I, unlike you, am an adult, with responsibilities and concerns." He turned away and then thought twice about being mature. It was much more fun to get out and get a little sweet revenge.  
  
It was about one second later that he ran his paint brush down the front of her shirt and jeans, leaving a long pink line. The look of relative shock on her face of course made him laugh harder. "You didn't actually believe that crap about me being mature, did you?"  
  
Angela laughed. "Apparently I shouldn't have."  
  
There it was, a nice easy conversation with the man she loved that was absolutely gratuitous in that they were blatantly teasing each other. "Of course now I want a kiss," Angela said, walking up to him and pressing her body against his.  
  
"We're going to get covered in paint," Tony mumbled as his lips found hers.  
  
"Then we'll just have to take a shower when we're done," she replied simply, her lips finding his and seizing them feverishly. Tony's hands slid down her back, leaving finger trails in the paint as they trailed over her, and finally resting on her ass.  
  
"Ahem," they heard from the door way, causing them to jump apart. When they looked up, they realized that Mona was standing in the doorway, staring at them. "Caught you red...er, I guess pink handed," she remarked sweetly, enjoying the looks of surprise on their faces.  
  
Angela laughed. "Mother, of course you've got impeccable timing! When we said we needed a hand putting the rooms together, we meant that you should show up a little bit earlier than this," she teased.  
  
"I just got back from my date with Jerry, so I came at my earliest convenience," Mona pointed out.  
  
"It's one o'clock on a Saturday afternoon and you just got home from your date?" Tony looked at her with wide eyes. She would never cease to amaze him.  
  
"Are you crazy?" When she watched Tony suddenly relax a bit, she smiled. "I've not been home yet."  
  
Angela rolled her eyes at her mother, certain the woman was telling the truth. "So, are you going to pick up a paint roller and get painting?"  
  
"I don't know—if you guys paint in sets of two maybe I need to go hook a guy to help me out first?"  
  
"Mona," Tony whined, secretly enjoying how comfortable it was despite her having walked in on them making out. It was this unusual but remarkable comfort that they had with each other that made it all that much more perfect.  
  
"Okay, okay, but pink isn't my favourite colour and I like this shirt, so please try to keep your paint to yourself..." Angela and Tony laughed, turning back to their respective walls and hoping they could be well behaved at least until they were finished their painting. After all, they had promised each other a shower.  
  
23***  
  
"This is the last box," Tony said, dropping it at the foot of the stairs and looking up. Every inch of his body ached from having moved so much stuff over the past few days. Officially, his apartment wouldn't be his in two days. Officially, he was now a Connecticut resident, even if he had yet to find a job or figure out a way to pay for things like a new wardrobe for Sam. That would come, he thought. These weren't second thoughts as much as they were just contemplation. It was his job to think about these things, but it didn't mean he was regretting anything necessarily.  
  
"Sure, you say that and then you'll go out to get something from the van like a map and you'll come back with more," Angela teased, looking at the box at the foot of the stairs.  
  
"Nope. I never want to go outside again. I'm just going to collapse here and die," he countered, thinking about how much he couldn't stand the idea of lifting another thing.  
  
"Well, the collapsing is fine, as long as you make it to the couch, but the dying is against the rules. Just incase you're seriously considering it." Angela made her way down the staircase, feeling like she had used muscles she had never used before. "We shouldn't have stayed up so late last night," she mentioned, sitting on the bottom step.  
  
"Staying awake probably isn't what exhausted us," he said, sitting on the step beside her. "But you're right, we probably shouldn't have anyway—for the acrobatics we've had to do all day."  
  
"I never want to carry another couch down a flight of stairs again."  
  
"Eh oh, it was me and Philly who carried it. You and Louise stood at the top of the stairs complaining about the lack of an elevator in the building."  
  
"Still. It was very stressful," Angela defended. "I had this image of you being crushed under a hide a bed and being a widow before we even made it that far," she justified.  
  
"Sure you did. It probably didn't help that you had to hold Louise up—wow, she's gotten big so fast, eh?"  
  
"Well, she is six months through. I'm surprised Philly was letting her stand so near to the steps considering how many times he reminded her not to lift anything. Heck, he even told her to give me the 'heavy stuff!' Angela laughed at the memory. Even in Louise's delicate condition, Angela was probably more fragile than she was. That woman was built like an ox, and had the girth to out carry most men, Angela thought.  
  
"Fat chance you could have carried 'em," Tony laughed, but when he saw her hurt expression he back tracked. "I love you for you, not for what you can carry." Wrapping his arm around her, he looked at the box on the floor in front of them. "That's the last one. There's nothin' left in the apartment, nothin' left in the van, and nothin' left at Mrs. R's."  
  
"Are you second guessing your decision to move here?" She looked at him seriously, hoping his answer wouldn't scare her or hurt too badly, but whatever it was, she knew he'd be honest. He wasn't the kind of man to say one thing and mean another, which meant that she knew he was trust worthy.  
  
"Not second guessing, but nervous. I've never just lived with a woman before. I mean, there was Marie. And we got married and then moved in together, so it's kinda strange. But if I had to choose a woman to break tradition with, it'd always be you," he clarified.  
  
"Michael won't be in the jungle forever, no matter how long it seems..."  
  
"And in the meantime we'll just do things our own way. I know."  
  
"I have a surprise for you," Angela said, smiling. "Just to welcome you home." She liked the way that sounded. Home. Not just a house, but a home. There was something incredibly warm and fulfilling just in saying that word. And now she had a chance to build one for herself.  
  
"Oh yeah?"  
  
"Yep," she said confidently. "Come with me upstairs." Taking his hand, she stood and tried to pull him to his feet, but her efforts were in vain.  
  
"Angela, I love you, but haven't we been over this...I don't think I could do anything right now let alone..."  
  
"It's not what you're thinking," she said, blushing. Maybe she had been a little more aggressive as of late than she normally would have, but in her defense, she only saw the man she loved on weekends really. Their time at work together had been really limited and it wasn't exactly the right place to spend quality time together.  
  
"Ok," he agreed, picking up the box and bringing it with him. He might as well get rid of the last one and be done with it.  
  
**  
  
Standing outside of the bedroom, Angela attempted to peel the box out of his arms.  
  
"Angela, babe, I don't think you realize how bad of an idea it would be for me to give you this right now." He gave her that look that begged her not to test him on it.  
  
"Tony, babe, if you won't give it to me, then put it down. And then close your eyes." Angela grinned. It was her way of being sweet, and maybe a little cheeky, but most importantly it was her way of doing something nice for him.  
  
"You're not gonna paint me some crazy colour, are ya?"  
  
"Do you see paint anywhere near here?"  
  
"No," he admitted.  
  
"Then?"  
  
"Just remember, I know where you live, and I have a good source that sleeps in your bed that says revenge is sweet." Tony winked at her before putting the box down and pushing it to the side of the door.  
  
"Close your eyes," Angela said, watching as he gave her a skeptical glare. "And remember, I sleep beside aforementioned source and have my own way of getting revenge," she clarified.  
  
Tony grinned. "Eyes closed...what next?"  
  
Taking his hand, Angela opened the door to her room and led him inside. "Stand here," she said, rushing about, opening drawers and opening the closet.  
  
"Ok, ok..."  
  
"Keep your eyes closed."  
  
"I am!"  
  
"Just checking," Angela said as she rushed back to him. "Okay, now open them."  
  
Tony opened his eyes and looked around. "Wow."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah," he said, trying to absorb how different the room looked. Everything that was once pink was a neutral taupe color with varying accent shades of green and brown.  
  
"I know that it was pretty frou-frou before and I didn't want you to feel like you were drowning in a vat of pink shoulders every night, so today when we were getting the last of the things from your apartment, I had mother come here and change the duvet, the shams...all the linens, so they were more couple friendly."  
  
"This is amazing," Tony said, barely able to master coherent speech. It was the last thing he would have expected her to do, and yet here he was standing in the middle of their room, surrounded by warm colours.  
  
"And..." Dragging him for the 'tour', Angela laughed when she reached the dresser. "I've cleared out half the dresser for you, and half the closet, which was no small feat, I hope you realize, and I've also made space in the chest at the end of my bed for some of your things you'd like to keep near by but not use everyday."  
  
"You did all this?"  
  
"Well, me and Mother, and of course Sam helped out a bit when we were trying to find a shirt for her to wear to bed last night," Angela teased.  
  
"It's not my fault she forgot to pack sleepwear in her overnight bag," he argued.  
  
"Oh no. Even though you were the one who packed it," Angela reminded him.  
  
"So it wasn't my greatest moment," he argued. "I guess it all worked out."  
  
"I think so," she smiled. "So you think you can handle this arrangement?"  
  
Tony shrugged. "Well, I'm homeless if I say no, so...yes?"  
  
Angela slapped his shoulder. "Your response should be a little more enthusiastic."  
  
Cocking his head to the side, Tony gave her the all too familiar mischievous glare. "You mean, like this?" Leaning in for an impassioned kiss, Tony pulled her nearer to him. "I love you. Thank you for all this. And I promise I'll figure out a way to make it all up to you," he assured her.  
  
"Just not tonight, right?"  
  
Tony laughed. "Well, it's amazing what a short nap can do for a guy's energy," he said charmingly.  
  
"Whatever it does for his energy, I bet it doesn't do for his muscles, but a nap does sound lovely," she clarified.  
  
"So we're living in sin together..."  
  
"Well, if you're going to put it that way, we might as well at least do something to deserve the charge."  
  
"I like the way you think."  
  
"I like the way you do everything."  
  
"Ditto." 


End file.
